The First Affair
by VioletRose136
Summary: All Human Modern AU: Forget boys: The only thing Tessa is in love with is the theatre and writing... until she meets the President's son, Will Herondale. Handsome and complicated, Will sweeps Tessa off her feet and into a romance she only dreamed of... but is it too good to be true? Read and review!
1. Chapter 1

A.N. Hello!

In our highly sophisticated age of technological entertainment, I'm grateful to anyone who sets aside the time to read my new- and admittedly very, very cheesy- FanFiction. I hope you enjoy this.

Take care,

- VioletRose136

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><p>Chapter One<p>

**THE BATTLEGROUND OF LOVE**  
>ACT 3, SCENE 4<p>

_Rachel and Joseph are outside, she is confronting him about the secrets he has been hiding from her. The moon is high and you can see the cathedral's dark shape in the background._

**RACHEL**: But if you stay, you will lose your life.

**JOSEPH**: But if I leave, I will lose something far more important.

**RACHEL**: Nothing can be more important than your life, Joseph.

**JOSEPH**: _He looks up at her, his eyes are sad._ You—

"No, no, no." Tessa's voice cut down to the stage from the audience. She sighed and stood, her chair scrapping painfully against the floor. They looked up at her and the lights went up as Tessa started to make her way down to the stage where Jessamine and Thomas (who played Rachel and Joseph respectively) stood. "You can't make it look so staged, Thomas. You have to really get into it. This is like, your life. You would rather die and stay with her than be away from her. You sound like you're a four-year-old having a tantrum."

Thomas' eyes looked suddenly hurt and Tessa felt bad; maybe she had been a little too harsh. "Okay," He said, the hurt was gone as soon as it had shown. Thomas was a more experienced actor and was used to criticism. "How do you want me to get the emotion up?"

Tessa shrugged. "Think of your heartbreak, your first love, how disappointing your First Time was." (The last suggestion was more for humour, as a virgin, Tessa knew little about what was true and what wasn't about one's First Time. She had sat through sixth grade health class though; she couldn't say that it seemed like it would be that much fun.)

Jessamine sniffed and Tessa looked over at her. "Really Tessa," She said, her English accent cutting through now that she wasn't in character. "Saying things like that isn't becoming."

_Oh please, are we in the nineteenth century? _Tessa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Jessamine was the daughter of a British diplomat and had thus been exposed to the finer side of life before coming over to what she still insisted upon calling the colonies. In any matter, the fact that fate had decided to plop her down in Tessa's after-school theatre group seemed particularly cruel. Instead of making a cutting remark, or in fact lowering herself to Jessamine's level at all, Tessa only smiled.

"Jessamine, you played your character particularly well." Tessa had to admit that for all her real faults, Jessamine was a very good actress. A shame, as when one considered her father's connections it seemed impossible that she wouldn't have quite the career on the West End of London. Tessa could see her on the large, expensive stage—perhaps as Lady Macbeth or Elphaba. With Jessamine successfully turned off for the next three minutes thanks to the compliment, she turned to Thomas. "Look, however you do it, I'm sure you can do it. I saw you play Hamlet last year, for God's sake."

In a feat of madness, Tessa had convinced the group's director—Magnus Bane—to allow her to direct an amateur production of _Hamlet_ the year before. To say it was successful would be a lie, but Thomas had done his bit rather well. If when considering his performance you remembered that he was sixteen and had only experienced Shakespeare through high school English classes and his Shakespearean experienced hadn't extended to _Hamlet_.

But her line worked and Thomas nodded and smiled humorously at her. Tessa's ruthless directing aside, the two had become pretty close friends. "Okay, madam director. Let's take it from the top."

"Hey, that's my line!" Tessa shoved his shoulder playfully and walked back to her seat in the stands. Once she was settled, she looked back up at the stage. "As Thomas said: let's take it from the top."

The lights were dimmed and the scenery became backlit again. The faux moon was high in the sky.

"Where should we start from?" Jessamine asked, looking out into the audience where she knew Tessa was sitting.

Tessa looked down at her script, "Er, take it from '_Nothing can be more important than your life, Joseph'._"

Back down on the stage, Jessamine nodded.

**RACHEL**: Nothing can be more important than your life, Joseph.

**JOSEPH**: _He looks up at her, his eyes are sad. _You are.

Thomas nailed it. There was a slight pause, as the actors waited for Tessa's comment, but at her silence they began again.

**RACHEL**: _She steps forward, clearly unsure of herself and unsure that she has heard him correctly. _You know it is wrong to feel that way. You have to go Joseph. Perhaps… perhaps when this war is over you can come back.

**JOSEPH: **You will be married.

**RACHEL**: Not if I don't want to be.

And on it went.

Admittedly, the play was not the best play that had ever been written. It was not even the best play that had been performed on that stage. But what was different about this play was the fact that Tessa had written it herself. Magnus had handed it back to her saying, "Well, it's not bad."—And such a line from him was equal to a compliment. Secretly, Tessa had sent it away in the hopes of somebody buying and producing it, but all that had come back was a swarm of rejection letters—so many in fact, that she had started considering using it as wallpaper.

The play was set in Shrewsbury, England in the 1640s—in other words, during the English Civil War. Beside drama, History was Tessa's passion and she was particularly interested in that period. To string the two together seemed natural. In any matter, Shrewsbury had been a Royalist town until it had fallen when Cromwell's army had been let into the town through St. Mary's Water Gate (a gate which would be known by the town as Traitor's Gate) and few were certain of whom the traitor was. Tessa had built upon that, allowing the backdrop of a torn nation separate two lovers… one of whom, was the infamous traitor.

They rehearsed the scene—the scene where investigator's are quickly zeroing in on the traitor's identity and where Rachel and Joseph decide to run away on an ill-fated race across England (they end up being shot by the army, who believe Rachel and Joseph to be deserters—Rachel dresses up as a man) a few more times. The scene was fairly basic: they confess their love, Rachel begs him to go, he begs her to go with him and eventually she gives in and they prepare to go. It did not require as many people as the other scenes, nor was it as emotional as the final scene, where they died in one another's arms. Tessa found herself growing bored, as she had when she had first written the scene—she was not one for overly sappy love scenes.

The drama group lasted from five until seven. At quarter to seven, Tessa stood and thanked everyone. After that, she ran around talking to various people about lights and sounds and ensuring that the props were carefully stored. The play was due to open the day after Christmas—only three weeks away. They had done their publicity well and the theatre would be half-full, which wasn't too bad considering that some of their productions had only seen parents and overly engaged grandparents in the audience.

When she was clearing away her papers and her well-abused copy of the script, Magnus came up to her. "You should have told Jessamine she was being overdramatic." He told her. His accent was unusual, occasionally drifting from American to something else. She'd never been able to place it and he'd never opened up about his background.

She looked up at her mentor. He was tall and lean man, with beige skin and unusual amber coloured eyes. He wore a round, gold earing in one ear and his eyes were lined with silver eyeliner, which Tessa had to admit complimented his striking black hair and amber eyes.

"She'd have MI6 on my ass if I did that," Tessa replied, unbuckling her age-old satchel.

"So? If I recall, your dream is to be a great director someday. If you do that, you'll probably be bossing Leonardo DiCaprio and Cameron Diaz around. You can't produce a worse performance because you're afraid of who your actors _are_."

Tessa had to admit he had a point. "I'll try and stop her the next time we meet. But you have to admit the girl has talent, no matter how annoying she is."

Magnus shrugged. "The girl might have talent, but she needs to learn that she is nothing but marble under the director's hands. Your play is good, Tessa. Amateur, yes, but one would expect that. It is your first play. You are a glint of genius. Don't screw it up by having your lead actress make a muddle of what is arguably quite the heroine."

"Okay," She said—there was really nothing else to say, Magnus Bane had worked on Broadway before making his way over to Washington DC's elite and starting a small theatre group as a side-project, a 'trap for genius' he called it—but working on Broadway had given him a certain immunity to the word 'no' or in fact, any disagreements that may be tossed his way. "I'll do my best."

"See that you do." He said, before disappearing into a side-room. Tessa finished cramming her papers away and looked over at her chair, where she'd tossed her Liberty scarf and brown leather jacket. The scarf was blue and had a Hera design, a swirl of peacock-feathers. She twisted it around her lithe neck and reached for the jacket. It was an old thing— beat up, one might say—but it was short and form fitting and Tessa thought, had a lot of character. She tugged her blue V-neck sweater down further over her jeans and buttoned up her jacket. After bidding everyone else goodbye, she slipped out into the frosty air of the Capital.

She made her way along the street. It was a little past seven, but the city was already quiet in this area. She made her way up past a Giant and the Friendship Height's Potomac Pizza and slipped down into the Metro station. A florescent sign over the platform told her that the next train to her stop—DuPont Station—would be in three minutes. She pushed her hands deep into her pockets and let out a long breath. She wasn't exactly cold, but the action gave her something to do. She thought about rooting through her bag and finding her iPod, so she'd have something to listen to, but Tessa was often a little paranoid in the Metro and felt that it was best to keep her valuables hidden.

And then she saw him. To an onlooker, it would not have seemed like a very significant meeting. Two strangers, glancing at each other and then quickly glancing away—but inside was a different story. Inside, Tessa was reeling, and reached out and laid her hand on the stone bench for support. It felt as if somebody had smacked her with a brick.

_She had never seen anybody so beautiful. _In the glance, she had registered dark, wavy hair and eyes that were strangely out of place for his colouring. Deep, blue eyes. The colour of dawn before it gives way to day. In the back of her mind, she registered that the effect made her think of wolves and their dark fur illuminating brilliant eyes. And his face… well, that put her in mind of the sculptures of angels she'd seen in the past. It was all perfectly angular, with high cheekbones and a strong, noticeable jawline.

She had no idea who he was. He stood a little ways away from her, hands in pockets like her. He wore a hip-length black wool coat that was so expertly tailed that it had to be designer. His jeans as well hinted at designer origins. His shoes—not boots—she noted as she spotted the hint of yellow along the seams were Doc Martens.

Suddenly, she realised that she was staring at him and jerked her gaze away—but she didn't jerk it away fast enough. Too soon, their eyes met and he smiled slightly, a wry smile that only took up half of his face. But his eyes smiled, she saw and turned away and found herself blinking as the Metro train slid into the station. It stopped and the doors slid open. Tessa scrambled to get on and vaguely registered the cheerful automated voice announcing, _'Doors closing, doors closing'_…

Tessa wrapped her arms around her bag as the train smoothly slid into movement. After a moment she opened the bag, checking for her iPod and headphones. Once that was plugged in and Stereophonics were blaring in her ears, she turned her attention back to the bag to do her regular check that everything was there: Wallet, yes… phone, yes… keys… keys? Keys?! She began frantically searching, oh no… if she didn't have them she'd have to knock on Sheila's door… and Sheila didn't like being disturbed after eight. Ugh, oh no…

A tap on the shoulder distracted her. She jumped and looked up, seeing the boy from the platform. She stared at him dumbly for a second before jerking her headphones out. "Can I help you?"

"Are these yours?" He said politely, holding up… her keys! Relief flooded Tessa and she reached her hand out to grasp them. Putting them into her bag, she looked up to thank him.

"Thanks, you've saved me," She said humorously but gratefully. And if she was being honest, it wasn't that far off of the truth. At ninety-six years old, Sheila was a fairly good neighbour… until you ran into her.

"I find that I do that a lot, save young maids from disaster." He said grandly, grasping the rail beside him. "But do enlighten me: how have I averted your disaster tonight?"

"You mean aside from finding my keys?" A thought occurred to her. "Where did you find them? Are you a stalker I don't know about?"

He smiled. "They fell out of your bag when you got your iPod out."

"How did you know that?"

"Because I was watching you."

Momentarily caught off guard, Tessa struggled to come up with an answer. "I have an evil neighbour." She blurted out, for lack of anything else to say. "You saved me from her."

He sat down next to her. "Oh really?"

"She's basically the reason I still believe in witches." Tessa admitted. She was mostly joking—mostly. Up close, she felt that there was something familiar about him—a friend of a friend, perhaps? She'd seen those eyes before, but couldn't for the life of her say where.

He laughed. "I'm sure she can't be that bad."

"Well, I think her and Lucy Marsden would get along quite nicely."

His eyes lit up. "Lucy Marsden? From _Oldest Living Confederate Widow Tells All_?"

"You read that?" The book was impossible to find—it was only thanks to an overly pushy ex-boyfriend's mother that Tessa had come across the novel at all.

He nodded. "Not the best book I've ever read, but yes, I read it. I do get bored over summer vacation." Tessa wasn't quite sure what to say to that. He shifted quickly, offering her his hand. "I'm Nigel, by the way. Nigel Wilkes."

"Nigel Wilkes," Tessa said slowly and extended her hand and accepting his outstretched one. "I'm Theresa Gray. But I go by Tessa."

"I just go by well, Nigel," He replied, shaking her hand. "I guess some people call me other things. There are nicknames for Nigel, right?"

"Oh sure, Nige… Niggle, Nigella…" Tessa giggled.

Nigel looked affronted. "I'm honestly not sure which of the last two was worse. On one hand, I wouldn't want to be called by a woman's name, but on the other, _Niggle_?"

"Hey," Tessa said as the train slowed at DuPont. She stood. "It's a fine nickname. Sir Niggleton Pokieface is an even better one."

"Now you're just being ridiculous." He winked at her. "You're getting off here too?" He stood and straightened his jacket. She nodded. "Do you live around here, then?"

"Oh no, I live about ten minutes away from Van Ness. I just wanted to come by Kramerbooks." Kramerbooks was the infamous bookstore across from the Q-Street entrance. The train slid to a stop and they got off together. Tessa dug through her bag and pulled out a book. She handed it to him. He paused and squinted as he read the cover: _The Agency: A Spy in the Home_.

"Now, I can't say that I've heard of this." He told her, handing it back to her. They had stopped walking once they got onto the platform. Tessa put the book away and looked back over at Nigel.

"It's this great book," She replied. "Lots of sleuthing. Like Nancy Drew but set in the Victorian Age. The author's not half-bad, either. In any matter, I'm about to finish this novel and I wanted to buy the next. Maybe grab a coffee while I transition novels, that sort of thing."

"Well," He paused and if she had known him better Tessa might have actually thought that Nigel was nervous, but no. Someone as good looking as him could never be nervous. "Do you imagine I could join you on such a fiasco? I've been meaning to buy a copy of Anna Karenina for this essay I'm doing."

"Oh," Tessa was taken aback. Was this gorgeous create actually asking her—Theresa Gray—on a date? And then she nodded. "Sure. It'd be nice to have company that's not fictional."

Nigel chuckled. "Well, I imagine we'll be just fine. Shall we?"

He had indicated the elevator leading to the Q-Street exit. As Tessa got on, she noticed two men wearing black suits turn and almost resolutely follow them. A little ways behind them, she saw two more men flanking them. For the briefest of moments she wondered if they were flanking Nigel. Who was this Nigel, anyway? Her sense of familiarity returned with newfound force. She looked over at him.

"I swear we've met somewhere before." She told him.

His lips pursed. "Not likely," He admitted. "I've been at university in the UK since September. I lived in DC for a few months before that, but I'm originally from Washington State."

"Oh," Tessa shrugged. "Where do you go in the UK?"

"Lancaster." He replied, "I study English Literature and Philosophy."

"Oh, wow. What's it like in England? Do you hang out with the Queen?" Again, her question was met with pursed lips, but Nigel's face easily relaxed into a smile after a moment. He smiled mysteriously as they made their way through the gate, their SmartTrip cards beeping reassuringly as they nudged them against the scanner.

"Oh, you'd be surprised."

And that was all he managed to say before they were descended upon. Sounds that for all intensive purposes sounded like a million tiny wings flapping surrounded them and Tessa was suddenly blinded by light. Questions were being blared at them—or rather, at _him_.

"Will, is it true you and Grace, Princess of Kent are having an affair?"

"Will, how do you feel about abandoning your country for the United Kingdom?"

"Will Herondale, did your father ask you to go overseas for reasons of state? Is there a dark secret he's trying to hide?"

Will Herondale? But… in the swarm of people, Tessa looked at Nigel—Will—beside her. And then suddenly, a horrible coil twisted hard around her stomach as the face and the name clicked. Will Herondale: The son of President Edmund Herondale, who had been sworn in at the beginning of the year—the man who, until his election in 2008—had been Governor of Washington. Headlines suddenly flashed across her vision, magazine titles she'd barely paid attention to in the checkout line: _The White House's Boy_, _Will Herondale: The First Hottie_, _Move Over Zac Efron—America Wants Will_… over and over these headlines flashed into her vision. Of course she'd recognised him! She'd seen his photograph everywhere in the few months following the presidential election!

Someone grabbed her and she fought back for a moment before she realised it was Will. He steered her up onto the escalator. "Keep your head low." He instructed her. "They've already got a photo of your face, but the less the better. Fuck." He turned around and looked at the paparazzi, which were being back by the four men Tessa had spotted earlier.

They rode up the escalator in silence. Ducking her head, Tessa tried to remember everything she could about William Herondale. He was eighteen years old; studying in England… she should have known that from the press. He had one younger sister and had had one elder sister who had died of leukaemia when he was eleven.

They spilled out of the Metro station and onto the street. More paparazzi were here, too. Again, Will grabbed her and Tessa let herself be directed across the street and into Kramerbooks. The paparazzi were hot on their trail, but were mostly being derailed. He pushed her through the doorway and they made their way through the pleasantly hectic, crowded shop and up into a stairwell at the back of the store. Here, Will stopped and leaned against the railing, breathing heavily.

"Well, I'm sorry about that." She looked at him silently, not sure whether to be angry or horrified that she'd suggested calling the son of the President of the United States _Niggle_. "I truly am, Father has tried to derail them, but they seem to be particularly fascinated with me."

In the back of her mind, Tessa remembered a Washington Post article that had explained Will Herondale's decision to go to the United Kingdom had come following him being hounded on the Beltway, pursued hotly by photographers. _"My son feels it is best to study in England. He feels that due to the location of his university and the different celebrity ideals over there, he will be able to conclude his academic career more successfully. I am disappointed that the antics of the press has caused this result, but I wish my son the best in his academic career." _

She looked back up at Will and felt a wave of sorrow for him. What would it be like, she wondered, to live your life in the spotlight? She took a deep breath. "So, your name isn't Nigel."

Will looked taken aback at that; it was the last thing he expected out of her. "…No," He admitted slowly, obviously wondering if she were mentally disabled. "And as you might have guessed, it isn't _Wilkes _either. In all honesty, I got that name from John Wilkes Booth—you know, the guy that shot Abraham Lincoln. But my name isn't Nigel Wilkes Booth, either. In case you were wondering." He took a deep breath, "Look, I'm sorry for lying but most of the time people recognise me and it was kind of cool that you were the one person that didn't and it was immature but—"

"—Jesus Will, are you going to ramble like this for the rest of our date?

His eyes brightened. "Our date?"

She crossed her arms. "Well, just because we got hounded by the press doesn't mean you get to stand me up. You asked me out on a date, dammit. I expect to go out on a date." She turned towards the café. "Now are you coming, or what?"


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note:

Wow! I've had SUCH a fantastic response to this story. I'm really glad you all liked it.

A couple of notes on this chapter:

One- The Borough really is a pub in Lancaster, England (while I do live in the UK, I don't live in Lancaster- but a quick Google search provided the information I needed) but insofar as I could tell, it is not terrorised by anyone known as Six Fingered Nigel... but those of you will recall _Clockwork Angel _does mention such a figure.

Two- The descriptions of _Anna Karenina_ in this chapter are based on the VINTAGE CLASSICS 2010 edition of the book. I think this story takes place around 2009, but hey, I'm allowed to morph the time space continuum for the sake of entertainment.

Three- Kramerbooks does exist in the DuPont Circle neighbourhood of Washington DC. It does have a cafe. I do not know however, if the cafe really does serve peppermint tea.

And did anybody notice that I have Tessa wearing exactly the outfit she's wearing at the end of _Clockwork Princess_? Huh? Did anyone make the connection? The coat's my addition, however... but hey, it's cold in DC in December. I know. I lived there for twelve years.

Thank you all for your reviews, they really do make my day!

Take care,

VioletRose136

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><p>Chapter Two<p>

"Well, in my defence, I was assaulted by a midget named Six Fingered Nigel in a pub once. I guess that's where I got the name from."

Tessa looked up from her peppermint tea, laughing. "Six Fingered Nigel? Is he actually a person?"

Will nodded, his eyes alight with humour, "It's absolutely true. He's a midget that hangs around The Borough—that's a pub in Lancaster. A couple nights before I came home the little elf practically jumped me!"

Tessa raised her eyebrows in mock horror. "I don't think it's socially acceptable to call midgets _elves_, Will." She said. "And what were you doing in a pub? You're only eighteen, aren't you?"

He nodded, smiling. "The drinking age in England is eighteen. It's probably the main reason I decided to go to university over there. Only don't tell my mom."

She laughed. "I doubt I'll ever have the chance to tell the First Lady of the United States anything." She took a sip of tea. The sharp smell of peppermint served to calm her; vaguely she wondered what time it was. It was dark outside—but then again, it had been dark when they came in. How long had they been talking? An hour? Two? Discretely, she pulled her phone out and clicked it so that it would show the time: 9:23 PM. Her curfew was ten. She looked back up at Will, who was speaking.

"Why wouldn't you meet the First Lady? You could come by tonight, even. Why not? Have you got anything to do? You're on a break, aren't you?"

Tessa looked down at her outfit—black knee-high boots, blue jeans and a blue sweater along with her Liberty scarf. The Liberty scarf had been a gift from her aunt, who worked as a top-lawyer in New York. Admittedly, the authentic Liberty label would impress the First Lady—or at least, hopefully convince her that Tessa wasn't a total tramp—but meet the First Lady? She had only met Will a few hours ago. It was a bit early to meet his parents. She wasn't a Disney Princess, after all. Smiling, Tessa shook her head.

"Will, I just met you. I can hardly go over to the White House and meet your mother. Besides, it's late. I can't imagine anyone's parents being okay with them bringing home some random girl after ten o'clock."

Will looked surprised. "It's after ten o'clock? Jesus, we've been here for hours."

"No, it's only about nine thirty, but I assume by the time we got there and the introductions were made…" She sipped down the rest of her tea hurriedly. "In any matter, my curfew is ten. I think I should be on my way if I want a chance in hell of getting home on time."

"It only takes about fifteen minutes to drive over to Van Ness from DuPont." Will protested. "If you won't let me take you home with _me_, at least let me take you _home_." He pulled a phone out of his pocket.

"Get in a car with you? But you could be an axe murderer." She said, but she had relaxed some, with her margin opened again. She wasn't ready to leave. They had talked about everything. After browsing for a while—Will's bodyguards had successfully warded off the press—she had purchased the second book in The Agency series, _The Body in the Tower_ and Will had purchased a copy of _Anna Karenina_. Why anyone would want to read that Godforsaken book was beyond her, but Will seemed fond enough of it.

"It's all about how you look at it," He'd explained. "And the language… oh, have you ever actually read it? Tolstoy's language just… even in English it almost dances off the page and melts on your imagination in the most glorious way."

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I haven't read it, but I know what happens, she throws herself under a train at the end."

"Okay," He said, handing his newly purchased copy to her. "Read this. Read all of it and come back to me and tell me that it isn't an amazing book."

"Don't you need it for your university work?" She'd asked, originally reluctant to accept such a large book.

Will shrugged. "It's a weird thing I do, I collect copies of a book I really like. Like, lots and lots and lots of copies. I've got a few at home already; I just hadn't seen this before. But it's more important to me that you read this. You have to read it. It is the greatest book ever written."

Tessa reached out and took it. Reading one book wouldn't kill her. "Well, thank you I suppose. I'll return it once I've finished it?"

He put his hand up in a stopping gesture. "No need, my father is the President of the United States. If I want another copy of _Anna Karenina_ then I can have one, dammit. Just… see it as my apology to you for faking my identity earlier."

"Well then," Tessa had said, clutching the book to her chest. "I suppose the apology is accepted."

Back in the café, Will was shaking his head, "I don't understand you. You're hounded by the press—something that has managed to drive people into fatal accidents in the past—and yet, what you fear is being alone with me in a car with several members of the Secret Service, whom I assure you are not serial killers."

"I said axe murderer,"

"Whatever," He laughed. "C'mon Tess… I want to spend more time with you."

Tessa looked up at him in shock. "You barely know me," She protested. And it was true: It was no Disney movie. The boy barely knew her. And for all she knew, this whole thing could be a delicate play of his… of course, why go to all the effort? She was sure that if the First Son wanted to get laid, quite frankly, he could get laid without too much effort. She pursed her lips.

"I don't know why," He admitted honestly. "It's just…" His phone started ringing then, interrupting what he was about to say. He reached down and answered it. Speaking for a moment, he stood, hung up and looked down at Tessa. "I believe our carriage awaits, madam."

Tessa smiled and stood up. Will helped her into her jacket and she grabbed her bag from where she'd stashed it under the chair. They headed out to the car, where someone was waiting with the door open. He greeted Will with a nod and, "Sir," Will smiled and turned to Tessa.

"Tessa, this is Axel, my long suffering head bodyguard. In the front beside him you'll see an equally long suffering Trevor, who will be driving you home this evening."

Tessa smiled and nodded at the two bodyguards. They looked exactly as one would imagine the Secret Service would: With black suits, sunglasses (even at night) and earphones, she imagined they could have stepped straight out of an action movie.

The inside of the car looked more like a car than a limo—of course, the car they were in was an RV. A well fitted RV, but still an RV. There was a small TV however, even though they didn't use it. She sat back, for silence had suddenly fallen between them. She looked out of the car as Will answered questions about where they were headed. "Around Van Ness?" He asked, looking at Tessa.

Tessa nodded and gave Trevor the whole address before settling back into the seat. Will settled beside her, nudging her playfully. "So why won't you come see me tomorrow?"

"I told you, I barely know you."

"So? If you came and saw me, we'd know each other better. Come and see me tomorrow." After a silence he said, "You know I won't stop asking until you come to see me, right?"

Tessa laughed. "But I have nothing to wear. Will I meet your parents?"

He shrugged. "Probably. It's a Saturday, I mean, they're going to be around." At her face, Will laughed. "Come on, I want to see you tomorrow. Please?"

Hang on; he was inviting her to the _White House_? Sure, Tessa had been before on school trips, but never as a personal guest of the First Family. Hardly anyone had been there as a personal guest of the First Family. "I have nothing to wear." She said meekly.

He stared at her. "What you have on would be fine. I'm hardly asking you to attend a state dinner with me, although I might, if you're nice to me." He smiled at her horrified face. "C'mon, it would be fun. Have you seen _Unrested_?" When she shook her head, his eyes went wide. "Oh my God, I have to show it to you. It's this show; it takes place in the middle ages. It's about the conflicts between Wales and England in the late 1290s. Except it's this drama. It's so good, it hurts me that Americans don't know how good it is."

Tessa laughed. "Is it like _The Tudors_?"

"Yes!" He said and then paused, "No. Yes, sort of. It's _The Tudors _meets _Game of Thrones_. Except with less sex and more dying." She made a face. "Oh don't worry, there's lots of sex in it."

She laughed. "That's not what I—" Her words stopped as they slid up in front of her building. Trevor pulled into the small, round drive in front of the building and stopped.

Trevor got out and came around to her side and opened the door. "This is the right place, ma'am?" He said; his formality shocked her and it was a moment before she answered.

"Yes, thank you very much." She said. She turned to Will, but he was already getting out and coming around the side of the car. Trevor returned to the drivers seat and they were left (relatively alone) standing by the car. For a moment, they were quiet and then Tessa said, "Well, thank you for today. I had a good time." It was generic and boring. But it was true: she _had_ enjoyed herself. Will Herondale was… well, he was entirely full of himself, was entirely aware that he was insanely and unfairly attractive… and yet there was something about him that stopped her from hating him. In fact, whatever it was made her really like him.

"And yet, you won't see me tomorrow." Will replied, smiling at her. She was suddenly aware at how very close he was.

Her breath caught in her throat. "I… I don't have anything to wear."

"I'm sure you'll find something. You looked beautiful tonight." _Nobody really says things like that in real life. _Tessa thought, but that thought slipped away as fast as she had grasped it, like water running through her fingers.

The world slowed down. All there was in the world was Will and his eyes on her. For what felt like a very, very long time they looked at each other, an unbroken stare. Finally, conscious of every twitch of her muscles, she glanced down at Will's lips and then back up at his questioning eyes. His eyes became resolute and he leaned down to kiss her.

The kiss itself was not great. Both of them had kissed other people before, but they had never kissed _each other_. Their rhythm was messy, signals misunderstood. The kiss intensified, their tongues dancing together. Finally, Tessa made to pull away, only to realise as she did that Will intended the kiss to continue. But the kiss… the lack of practice didn't tarnish the experience for her. _She was kissing him_. Finally, she pulled away—even though she suspected that Will would have happily continued kissing her for much, much longer.

He smiled at her. "Let me walk you to your door."

They walked a few steps and then she reached down, clasping his hand in hers for the few steps. When they reached the door, she opened it and they walked into the foyer. A receptionist was there—a bored guy in graduate school Tessa occasionally brought doughnuts to—but he paid them little attention and continued flipping through his textbook. She turned to him as they reached the elevator.

"I think it would be best if you didn't come upstairs," She said, "My brother… well, he's far more interested in the media than I am. I'd… stay here."

Will laughed and kissed her again. "Fair enough. I'll pick you up at one."

"What?" Tessa was taken aback. Then, she smiled. "Fine, I suppose I have to see you then."

He nodded and kissed her one more time as the door opened. "Be outside at one."

"Couldn't it be ten?" Tessa asked, smiling shyly.

"That's exactly what I hoped you'd say." He replied. Tessa rolled her eyes and stepped into the elevator. Had they really met a few hours ago? God… the doors closed and she hit her floor—seven—before bracing herself on the railings and leaning back into the corner.

_Things like this don't exist. You don't meet a guy and then find yourself kissing him three hours later. Or well, maybe you do. But that guy isn't the son of the President of the United States. And he doesn't invite you to the White House… _Tessa's thoughts ran in circles. The gist of it… well, she now understood the emotion behind, "This all happened so fast!"

Getting out of the elevator, Tessa headed down the hall to her door: 701. She unlocked it and walked into the living room. It was a pretty large, spacious room with a kitchen and a balcony at the far end. Across from her was the door to the master bedroom and down the hall to her left were her room and her brother's room. Her mom and her brother Nate were sitting on the couch. Nate was staring intently at his laptop, playing some online game. Her mom, Elizabeth Gray was watching what appeared to be a crappy reality TV show.

"Hey honey, you're home later than I thought you'd be."

Tessa put her bag down on the table by the door: she'd take it to her room later. "I texted you and said I would be."

Her mom smiled and shrugged. "What kept you?"

"I was hanging out with a friend," Not a lie, right? There was no need to mention who the friend was. "I ran into them on the Metro." Technically that wasn't a lie, either. Tessa ran a hand through her hair. "Hey, I'll come out and talk to you in a minute. I'm going to go and take a shower."

"Okay honey. Do you want some dinner?"

The concept of doing such mundane things like eating seemed so far away for her. Did she need to eat? Realising that she was actually, insanely hungry, Tessa nodded. "Yes, please." She grabbed her bag from the table by the door.

She went into her room, dumped her bag on the bed. After a second thought, she checked her phone: no messages from Will. They'd exchanged numbers after sitting down at the café and she had kind of hoped he'd text her and remind her that the last few hours weren't a dream. But then again, she had seen him ten minutes ago and although his enthusiasm to see her again was endearing, she had to admit that obsessive texting right away _was _kind of far… even for the President's son.

She went into the bathroom that was between her and her brother's rooms. Locking the door to her brother's room on the opposite side (it sometimes happened that he forgot she was in the shower—often Nate didn't hear anything in the real world when he was playing games) and turned on the shower. She undressed slowly and looked at herself in the mirror: she still looked the same, dark hair and piercing grey eyes.

She took her shower and brushed her teeth, the feel of moving through the familiar actions calmed her significantly and she came out of the bathroom (after unlocking her brother's door to the bathroom) and into her bedroom feeling much more like herself. She plugged her phone into charge and started up her laptop and headed onto her favourite social networking site. She answered a few messages from her friends—no one seemed to have seen the footage from the Metro station, so there was no craze to deal with. After that, she scrolled down the main page looking at various statuses and pictures. With that activity exhausted, she shut her laptop and put it under her bed. Reaching for her bag (which was still tossed at the end of her bed) she pulled out _The Body in the Tower, _but after a second thought put it back and pulled out _Anna Karenina_.

The first three pages was an extensive list of characters. Tessa remembered her mother saying how she had failed to read _War and Peace _when she was younger because of all the characters—the failure had come after a lengthy fight, during which her mother (who had been twelve) had drawn up everything from diagrams to character profiles to help her remember. Tessa wondered if Anna Karenina would be that bad. The list reminded her of Cast Lists, the unexpected addition to the book made her smile, making her think that just maybe the novel would be worth reading.

She turned from the List of Characters over to the title page ANNA KARENINA it read in large, ornate letters. Below that, in much smaller italics—almost as if someone had added it as a hurried, second thought before the book had gone to print was the phrase _Vengeance is mine; I will repay_. PART ONE: Chapter One began on the following page and for the first time, she read those famous words:

_ALL happy families resemble one another, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. _

She had only read to the middle of the second page when there was a knock on the door. She folded the corner of the page over and looked up. "Come in."

Her mother opened the door and stood there with a strange look on her face. "Tessa, can you come out here for a minute?" Frowning, Tessa put the book on her nightstand, leaned over and pulled her slippers on and stood up. She grabbed her dressing gown as she walked over to the door. "Nothing's wrong, I… come to the living room."

When they got to the living room, it was empty. Nate must have retreated to his room for the night. Tessa's father Richard was away on a business trip in Los Angeles, covering a story about veterans that had broken a few days before. The smell of Alfaro filled the air and Tessa plopped down on their L-shaped, black, comfy couch and looked over at her mother.

"What's going on?"

"Watch this,"

Elizabeth picked up the remote that sat on the cushion between them and pressed play. It was the local news. The paused image on the screen began to move. Tessa's face coloured as she recognised herself. A voiceover on the screen said, "In other news, the President's son William Herondale—known as Will to his family and friends—was seen out and about today in DuPont, he was accompanied by a young woman whose name we do not know. The only son of President Herondale, Will studies English Literature at Lancaster University in the United Kingdom. With the semester concluded, Will returned to the United States last week. This is the first public sighting of him since his return. Will, his companion and the security accompanying him refused to answer any questions. It is expected that William will join his family…"

Elizabeth muted it. The footage of them in the Metro station had gone to a small box in the corner. "Honey, what friend were you meeting today? Is… is that right?"

Tessa looked down. "Well no, he studies English Literature _and _Philosophy at Lancas—"

"—No, honey, not that. Were you with the President's son today?"

Tessa bit her lip and looked down. Looking back up at her mother, who stared at her wide-eyed, she said. "And I'm going to the White House tomorrow."

"…_The White House_?" Elizabeth squeaked.

Taking a deep breath, Tessa explained to her mother everything that had happened: dropping her key, it being retrieved by 'Nigel', the conversation on the train, being ambushed by the paparazzi. The only thing she left out was the kissing at the end of the night.

"Wow," Elizabeth said when Tessa had stopped speaking. "Will Herondale. What are the chances of that, hey? Running into the President's son on the Metro. I don't imagine the security are too happy about him riding around on that."

Tessa laughed. "They probably aren't. But I don't think Will cares."

"You call him _Will_?"

"Yes, because that's his name." Tessa explained, crossing her legs on the cushion in front of her. She put her hands in her lap. "And I'm going to see him tomorrow. He's going to show me some British TV drama."

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Tessie," _Tessie _was a nickname gifted to her only by her family. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you hanging around with him. I mean, I'm absolutely certain he's a wonderful, interesting young man but… look what they did to you today—he lives in a fishbowl. If something were to happen between you two and the press found out—"

Tessa laughed, "Mom, I doubt anything is going to happen between us. His nickname from the press is The First Hottie. I highly doubt he's that interested in me. He's probably just home for break and bored. I like talking to him, but I don't think he's going to be my _boyfriend._" And that largely, was true. Tessa didn't see how someone like him would harbour a long time interest in someone like her. She wasn't particularly down on herself, but it didn't seem particularly down on yourself to assume that one of the hottest guys in America probably wouldn't date you properly.

Elizabeth sighed. "Well, you're seventeen Tessa… if you want to go see this boy tomorrow, I'm not going to stop you. But think of all the horror stories from the media… I mean, Princess Diana—"

"—Isn't me, mom. Like I said, I don't think it's going to be a thing."

Biting her lip, her mother nodded. "I guess… but oh my God, what are you going to wear to the White House tomorrow?"

Tessa thought for a moment before she responded. "I'm thinking those jeans—the skinny ones that are pretty dark—and that sheer, wrist-length black top with the sort of bow in front? Obviously I'll wear a camisole under it… Will says that jeans will be fine… but at the same time, I want to wear something that you know, could conceivably be worn if I meet the First Lady."

"Oh my God," This time, her mother's voice held awe instead of worry. "Honey… think about what you just said. You're worrying about meeting the _First Lady _of the _United States of America._"

Tessa's eyes went wide and she smiled as she nodded, laughing. "I _know_!"

After that, Tessa dished up some pasta while her mother found an episode of _Wife Swap_ on TV for them to watch. In the episode, there was a psychic swap-wife who spent a lot of the episode trying to convince her swap-family that the eldest swap-son was an alien. It was kind of funny.

It was around twelve when Tessa returned to her room. She dropped her dressing gown onto the floor and slid off her slippers. She slid under the covers after she'd turned her light off. After a moment's thought, she reached over to the nightstand and clicked her phone. Squinting in the sudden light, Tessa saw that she had one text from Will, sent ten minutes before.

_Thank you for tonight. Best coffee I've had in a long time. _

Tessa smiled and typed out a response.

_Because I was with you or because you're in America? _(Will had complained of how coffee never quite tasted right over there. "It's the same with black tea here, you can make it the exact same way… and it's just not the same.")

After a few minutes, her phone screen lit up with his response:

_Both. _

Tessa laughed and was about to reply when another text came in.

_But mostly because of you. x _


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note:

Thank you all for your reviews. The response to this story has been better than I imagined it would be. I'm SO glad you're all enjoying it.

I'm sorry for how long it's taken me to update: I had a really big piece of History coursework due this week and so all my attention and efforts have been poured into academic writing, instead of fictional writing. But in any matter, I'm back and this story is being updated- woo!

As usual, a few notes about this chapter:

- A few real life figures are mentioned (Boris Johnson, Hilary Clinton and Jackie Kennedy) and I wanted to make very clear that I really don't intend to voice any political views in this chapter. This is a piece of fiction writing, not a political declaration... the mention is brief, but I don't want to cause any stir so please do not take my allusions to them to be personal statements. :-)

- The books mentioned in this chapter, _Here Be Dragons_ by Sharon Penman and _A History of Wales _by John Davies are both real books and I've based the cover editions on my own copies of the works. Also, any historical facts mentioned are- to the best of my knowledge- accurate. I do know quite a lot about the history of Wales, so if you want to know anything more, don't hesitate to ask!

- _Unrested _is not a real TV show, but _The_ _Tudors_ is. (I imagine some of you know that.)

- My descriptions of the White House and the residence are fictional- the only truth in them is their location in the White House itself.

- My descriptions of Wales are as accurate as I- an American resident in Wales- could make them.

Thank you, everyone! I hope you enjoy this. I'm sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar/writing errors, I wanted to get this up as fast as possible, so I may have missed them!

- VioletRose136

* * *

><p>CHAPTER THREE<p>

Will woke up the next day to the admittedly pleasant, but annoying, blare of his alarm. It was a Saturday morning and although he was on a break and didn't have anything to do today (thankfully, he had come home too late to attend the Presidential Turkey Pardoning that year) he still had set an alarm. Why? Because of that girl: because of Tessa.

And it was that thought, the thought of her bright eyes and dark hair and the way her bottom lip was just slightly too full to match her top one—that drew his hand over to his nightstand. He grabbed the phone and shut it off. Lying back in his bed for a moment, he shut his eyes and smiled. After a few minutes, he reopened them and flung the covers back. He was wearing a grey t-shirt and green plaid pyjama bottoms. He grabbed his (black) dressing gown and stepped out of his room, heading down the corridor to the sitting room.

The President's family lived in what is known as "The Executive Residence" which was situated in the middle wing of the White House. While State Rooms and various offices open to the public take up most of it, the wholly _residential_ portion of The Executive Residence was situated above the ground floor. Although it only occupied one floor, it was vast—in fact, most of it was composed of guest bedrooms. Will's own family occupied two studies, the entry hall, three bedrooms with en suites, a dining room, a kitchen and a living room. It was into this living room that Will now entered.

His father the President and his mother the First Lady were cuddled up together on the couch, both reading different sections of the Washington Post. Behind them on the television, a _Good Morning, America!_-type show played quietly. His mother heard his approach and looked over at him in surprise.

"You're up early." She commented, her voice tinged with humour: It was often joked between members of the First Family that Will was actually a vampire as he was so rarely seen before sunset.

He shrugged. "The early bird catches the worm." He said wryly. He wondered if they'd made up coffee yet.

"If that's the case then I've already caught it." His dad said, closing his newspaper. "These goddamn pressure groups are making it so hard to get anything done. It seems that everything I want to do is somehow an infringement on _something_." He muttered something else. "Can you grab me some toast, Will?"

Will nodded vaguely and went into the kitchen. Pulling a mug down from the cupboard, he poured what remained of the coffee into it. Taking a sip, he reached into a plastic bag and drew out two slices of bread. He threw them into the toaster and pushed the leaver down. He leaned against the tan granite countertop and took another sip of the lukewarm coffee and thereby determined that it was the most disgusting coffee he had ever tasted.

He set the mug down on the countertop and reached over to the coffee machine. Opening the compartment with the filter in it, Will resisted the urge to gag. All over the coffee were grey-green patches of mould. With a sigh, he pulled the filter out of the coffee machine and banged it against the rubbish a few times so the grounds would come out. Then, he threw it in the sink and set about making a cup of tea. Tea never tasted right over in the United States (finding the cheap, tasteless black tea that is integral to a perfect cuppa is impossible) but he assumed anything would be better than coffee made with mouldy grounds.

A few days ago he'd found that the only black tea in the house was their Earl Grey loose-leaf tea from Dean & Deluca. While it was probably the fanciest tea he'd ever tasted, it really did not allow for a soothing cuppa. As he found the French Press and boiled a kettle and buttered his father's toast, Will found he was longing for the Tetley Tea of England. Or maybe PG Tips… hell, right then he'd have even stooped to the level of brand name Marks and Spencer's tea.

But he made some of the Earl Gray up anyway and returned to the living room with his father's toast and his tea. Sitting in an armchair across from the couch, he took a sip of the tea and said, "You forgot to empty the grounds again."

His mother looked at her coffee (which was sitting on the coffee table) and made a face. "Eurgh, we really should write a note and put it on the coffee maker. That's revolting."

His dad laughed, "Shall I write us a note to remember to write a note?" His mom laughed and twisted around to kiss him. It was Will's turn to make a face and look down; but really, his parents' clear love for each other was reassuring. He'd once read a statistic that said that fifty percent of marriages ended in the year following a child's death. After Ella's death they seemed to be even more in love. Of course, that didn't mean that the year following his older sister's death had been a happy one: In fact, he blocked most of it from his memory. In a way though, he had been relieved when she had died, relieved to see the end of hospital equipment and of his parents looking over bills in the dead of night and most of all, the end of Ella's suffering.

As he did many times a day, he pushed thoughts of Ella aside and looked back up. "Is it okay if I have a friend over here in a few hours?"

His mother's blue eyes lit with understanding. "Oh, so _that's _why you're up early. Is this that girl from the Metro last night?" At her son's shocked gaze, Linette pushed back a strand of her dark hair and said, "The security does tell us things, you know."

Will scowled. "I wish they wouldn't."

"Is it her?" Linette repeated.

Will rolled his eyes. "It might be. Be nice, okay?"

"We always are." His father replied.

With his tea done, Will stood and went back down the hall to his room. Once there he took off his dressing gown and removed his clothing before replacing the dressing gown. He grabbed a towel from a hook on the back of his door and headed into the en suite to shower. He had to admit that living in the White House was pretty awesome: the entire bathroom was marble and gold-coloured taps and carving. The bath and the shower were separate entities and Will stepped into the shower, shutting the thick glass door behind him. Someone had once told him that the door was bulletproof glass. Useful, he guessed, if someone started a war in your own toilet.

It was half past nine when he came out of the shower. Shit. He scrambled around the room, selecting a V-neck grey t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. He shoved his feet into Docs, grabbed his car keys and ran out into the living room. His parents hadn't budged. Secretly, he hated them for not having to be in a rush like he was.

"Going somewhere?" His mom asked. "Oh Will, have the security drive you. I don't want you going out on your own,"

"Oh my God mom, I'm eighteen, I'll be fine. They decked out the Mercedes with bulletproof windows and did some bomb-safety thing to it, didn't they?" He grabbed his green canvas messenger bag. He didn't like the term 'man purse', but he had to admit that having a bag with him all the time was pretty useful. He could see why girls did it. Only he didn't understand why they needed so many. "I want to go pick her up without all the highlighting that I'm a prime target and the ceremony of being a member of the First Family. Can you live with that?"

"Will," His dad's voice was disapproving. "Be polite to your mother, she did nothing to make you so snappy."

Will rolled his eyes. "Look, she lives over by Van Ness. I'll pop over there and then I'll come back. Okay? Can we just deal with that?"

Before they could answer, he'd grabbed his coat and left. He headed out into the public part of the White House. He took several back hallways (he knew that tours would be going on and figured that he could live without taking photos with several Mormon tourists from Idaho just this one time) and headed down into the garage. Next to several state-owned cars, was his beloved Mercedes: It was silver and a salon style. He hadn't driven it yet since he'd been home.

"Good morning sir," Jacob, another security officer was approaching him. "Are we taking her out today?"

Will nodded. "Yeah, I've got to go pick up a friend, I'll return in awhile."

"Would you like me to prepare a car to follow you?"

"The windows are pretty well tinted and I'll wear sunglasses. No one will know it's me," He was surprised that Jacob didn't hate him for his disappearance the other day. Although, he had taken bodyguards with him, so maybe he hadn't given Jacob the heart attack the security officer claimed that Will was always giving him.

Jacob pursed his lips. "Sir, you must understand that going out without security is a great risk. You are a prime target of kidnappers and of plain gunmen. Your father may be widely popular, but there are those who wish to see him extinguished from the office of President."

Will rolled his eyes, "It's a free country, Jake. I'm going to go out in this car. I will be careful. I will not even get out of the car if it makes you feel better, but I am going and I'm going alone. Having the Secret Service breathe down my neck all the time is getting really annoying. I'd like an hour where I can actually hear myself think for once."

"But sir—"

"Jake, it's a free country. Let me go, you'll find someone else."

Jacob rolled his eyes, but he nodded reluctantly. Will's sarcasm never sat well with the Vietnam veteran. He walked away, readying to open the garage gate for when Will needed it and Will slipped into the leather clad seats of his Mercedes. Driving out of the garage, Will headed towards Rock Creek Parkway—he figured going up that way was the fastest way to get to Tessa's house. At a stoplight, he reached over and dug through his bag. Finding his phone, he typed out a text to Tessa:

_I'm on my way. I hope you're dressed. But honestly even if you're not I'd probably take you home with me. _

When she replied, he got his phone to read the text to him. _Ew, don't be a pervert. But yes, I'm ready and waiting in the lobby. Text when you're outside. _

He pulled up in front of her building. It was one of those high-rise apartment buildings that DC was full of. The front was full of well-maintained ivy gardens. He was reaching for his phone when the passenger door opening startled him. He looked up quickly, remembering in the back of his mind that Jacob had once told him that there was a revolver in the compartment in the door on the driver's side. But it was just Tessa. He couldn't help the huge smile that crossed his face as she slipped into the car and buckled her seatbelt. She was wearing black tights, black Docs, a grey, long-sleeved knit dress and under the knit dress she was wearing a white Oxford shirt, the collar poked out of the neck, neatly smoothed against the knitted material. Her hair (long, brown, beautiful) was loose around her shoulders. She smiled at him.

"Hey," She said after a moment. "I didn't wait for you to text." Her tone was sheepish, as if admitting to a great fault.

"I'm glad you didn't." He leaned over the seat, kissing her. "I'm glad to see you." Tessa pulled away from the kiss and looked down; she was suddenly shy and couldn't say why. Will smiled and reached down, grasping her hand in his. "Are you ready for this?"

She shrugged, and he was shocked: She even did that beautifully. "I suppose I have to be. Do I look okay? I must have changed at least three different times this morning…" Will laughed and kissed her again, before reaching to start up the car. If he'd had it his way, he'd have stayed right there kissing her for the rest of the day. No White House; no parents; no nothing. But, he made himself pull away. They'd known each other less than twenty-four hours. To feel like this… it felt as if the world had been spinning, spinning so fast that he could not see anything. And with Tessa… Tessa had appeared and the world began to feel wonderfully still again.

They talked about several things, school; Tessa's play; Christmas and Shakespeare. Tessa was shaking her head violently when they drove through the White House gates. They paused and Will verified with the guards that yes, Tessa was his guest and no, she was not about to murder the President of the United States.

"No Will," Tessa began speaking as soon as they were through the gates, heading for the garage, "The first line Cleopatra speaks in _Anthony and Cleopatra _is not 'Hear the ambassadors', it is 'If it be love indeed, tell me how much.' You are wrong. You are totally and utterly wrong."

"No, the scene opens with Demetrius and Philo and then Cleopatra enters right away. They're talking about some sort of political thing,"

"Yes, the threat of Rome and of Octavian." Tessa responded, "It is the retelling of a historical tale. Much like _The Tudors… _much like the show you want to show me."

"You are going to LOVE _Unrested_." Will insisted, parking the car. They got out and Tessa looked around the vast garage. It smelled of car exhaust and oil. The smell was not intrusive, exactly, but it was noticeable. Will pulled her towards the fire door. From the fire door, they entered into a stairwell that reeked of cleanser. A couple of flights up, Will pulled her through another door into a nicer, modern corridor. From there, they went through an oak door and into the older, historic part of the White House. Tessa stopped and looked around, Will smiled.

"Wow," Tessa said, "I'm actually in the White House."

"So are several redneck tourists." Will replied, nodding down the corridor where a tour group passed. Smoothly, Will pulled her into an alcove, waiting until the tour group had passed. "Come on, let's go up to the residence."

When they got up to the residence, Will's parents—ahem, the First Lady and President of the United States—were standing in the kitchen. The smell of chicken and fine sauces wafted through the air. Tessa stopped in the doorway as Will stepped into the kitchen. President Herondale was easily recognisable with his mass of blond hair that often had had him compared to Boris Johnson in his early campaign days. However, President Herondale was handsome where Boris Johnson was not. His jawline was strong and his stance was neither overly broad, nor lanky. His eyes were blue. Rather than unusually and startlingly blond—like Boris Johnson—President Herondale's hair was streaked with grey, artfully speckled among his sideburns. He smiled warmly at Tessa, who lingered in the doorway.

"Mom, dad, this is Miss Theresa Gray," Will said, opening the fridge door and shutting it again without removing anything. He moved over to a cupboard and drew out a huge packet of crisps. "I'm going to show her _Unrested _in my room."

Tessa expected a comment about watching it in the living room instead, or at the very least leaving the bedroom door open, but none came. Will was eighteen; after all, perhaps his parents assumed that if he were going to impregnate someone and cause a national scandal, he would have done it by now. Linette smiled warmly at Tessa and moved away from the sink to shake Tessa's hand.

"Hello Theresa, welcome," Linette was very pretty, with dark hair and striking blue eyes. Where Jackie Kennedy could be described as pretty, one would describe Linette Herondale as handsome. Her presence as First Lady often reminded people of Hilary Clinton's conduct in office, she was very operational. She was also genuine in a way that was unique to her: she had often spoken openly of the loss of her daughter, Ella and encouraged groups that sought to help families dealing with loss as well as promoting the legal rights of social workers. "How are you?"

Tessa had a weird urge to curtsey, but she ignored it. This was not the Queen. "I'm very well, thank you, Mrs. Herondale." She accepted Linette's outstretched hand. Will saw his mother smile, a smile that was genuine as opposed to her wide public smile. There was something in Tessa that he could see Linette liked.

"Please, call me Linette."

President Herondale stepped forward. "I suppose my introduction is unnecessary." He smiled warmly at her. "It is lovely to meet you, Theresa."

"Please call me Tessa," Tessa offered, shaking his hand, too. She felt faint. The face was so familiar, yet the man himself was not. She knew the President, not the man. "It is an honour to meet you, Mr. President."

"Edmund," He corrected her with a smile. "Are you hungry or thirsty? We could get you something…"

"Oh no, thank you, though."

Will grabbed a bottle of Cola and turned to Tessa. "Are you ready for some _Unrested_?" He asked, holding the bottle against his hip.

She nodded. "I guess so."

Without saying anything to his parents, Will left the room. Tessa smiled politely and followed Will down the corridor to his own room. The room itself was huge: The doorway was across from the bed and by the huge oak wardrobe. The bed itself was partially set in an alcove in the wall; the alcove had shelves installed inside it. Across from the bed, between the two large windows was a desk. There was a TV at the far end of the room, across from the alcove where the bed was. In front of it was a couch and an armchair, one of the traditional regal ones that had reminded Tessa of thrones when she was a child. Will took off his jacket and dumped it on the bed.

"Welcome to my humble abode." He said, waving his arms out in front of him. Tessa smiled and looked around. Walking over to the nightstand, she picked up the two books which Will had left on it. One of the books, _A History of Wales _by John Davies was nonfiction. The cover was all white with the imposing figure of a red Welsh dragon on the cover and red and green lettering. The other book was purple, with a medieval painting of a young woman in a blue dress in a garden. The girl was distracted, looking away from the painter and fiddling with something in her hand. The title was _Here Be Dragons_. She read the back; it was a historical fiction novel, set during the thirteenth century in Wales.

"You are a fan of history, aren't you?" She said, replacing the book on the table.

Will shrugged. "I suppose so, I would have done it at university, except I never could quite get my exam technique down. I figured I'd do better at English, where prose in an essay is to be applauded, instead of discouraged." He went and sat down on the couch, motioning for her to sit next to him. "I discovered _Here Be Dragons_ when I was writing a paper in October about how authors sometimes morph real facts to suit their purpose and how it emulates and manifests itself in novels. It's actually when I got interested in Welsh history."

She settled next to him. "Why Welsh history?"

"Because," He said, reaching for the remote and turning on the TV, "They had some really, really badass Princes."

"Princes? They didn't have Kings?"

He shook his head. "Well, technically not." He pressed a few buttons on the remote and Tessa watched as the word UNRESTED came up onto the screen, written in medieval calligraphy. Behind the words was photograph of a man with a strong jawline. He wore a long, draping cloak and was looking out onto a land that looked serene and wild at the same time. The land rose and fell hectically and was startlingly green. The grey sky above it was wild and vast—the clouds thinning and thickening and swirling above it. Wales. "The Prince of Wales was for all intensive purposes the King. It was a principality, like Monaco."

Tessa nodded. "Oh, okay."

Will started the programme. It was the first episode and based in the English Royal Court of Edward I. Not very much actually physically happened in Wales in the first episode, but Tessa enjoyed it. _Unrested_ began after the death of Henry III, right as tensions were rising because Llewellyn ap Gruffudd (who would be known by history as Llewellyn the Last, Will explained to Tessa, as he was the last _Welsh_ Prince of Wales— for after Llewellyn, by Edward I's decree, the title would thereafter be bestowed upon the heir to the English throne.) was failing to pay the English King the fees it had formerly been agreed he would pay in return for the continuation of his (Llewellyn's) authority in Wales. They watched a few episodes (each an hour long) pausing for a little while so Will could make them grilled cheese sandwiches, which they ate back in his room. After the Bishop of Bangor had revealed that Llewellyn's nephew, Owain, had been planning an assassination, Tessa reached for the remote, paused the show and turned to Will.

"Have you been over to Wales?"

Will nodded. "Yeah, one weekend I had some sort of engagement in Shrewsbury—which is near the Welsh boarder—so afterwards I headed out to Powys, a county. It was really crazily beautiful… but what really hits you is how much _space_ there is. And the sky… oh man. The sky in Britain is lower than it is here, or at least it looks like it. And so in Powys there's just so much space… miles and miles of hills and fields just under this huge, huge sky. Like, you know how here when it's grey, it all looks miserable and horrible, right?"

Tessa nodded, she hated grey days, they made D.C. look aged and faded in a way that was by no means appealing. On grey days, she preferred shutting herself away at home or in a cosy coffee shop to work on a script or read.

"Well, it's not like that over there." Will continued. "When it's grey… it's beautiful and misty and the green… wow, Tessa it is just… breath-taking."

He stopped speaking, suddenly breathless. Tessa leaned over and kissed him. They had kissed before—and during the show that afternoon—but there was something about these kisses that was more feverish and needy than before. Lustful. Will pushed himself against Tessa and she leaned back willingly into the couch. His hand travelled from her hip to the side of her ribcage. Her heart was pounding in her chest. There was Will… only Will, the smell of him, the kiss, the softness of his lips. All she wanted was to keep kissing him… and kissing him and kissing him. In some part of her mind that was not absorbed by the kissing, she wondered what it would be like to let him touch her, remove her clothes so it was skin sliding smoothly against skin and—shit!

"No," Tessa said suddenly and pulled away. Will let her go immediately, pushing himself upright and away from her. He looked as startled as she felt. She breathed heavily for a few seconds and looked over at him. "We don't know each other."

Will nodded. "What's going on?" He asked.

Tessa shook her head. "I don't know." She replied, her voice shaky. "We," She looked up at him and was immediately comforted by the concern and worry on his face. "We're moving too fast. We met yesterday and we're making out like a pair of really horny teenagers."

"Well, to be fair to us," Will replied, "We _are_ a pair of really horny teenagers."

"Will," Tessa said, her serious tone made his smile drop. "We're not in a Disney movie. We can't just meet and," She paused, the phrase _fall in love _was on her lips, but it seemed too extravagant. "Let's take this slow, okay?"

Will's chest deflated and he nodded. "I guess you're right."

"Oh no, no, no." Tessa dropped her head against the couch back. "Now I feel guilty and horrible and awful."

"No, no, Tessa…" Will leaned forward and grasped Tessa's hands in his own, "I'm not upset— honest. I understand. It _is_ a little weird. We just met, we have to be sensible and I—" An idea struck him. "Let me take you to dinner."

She looked up at him suddenly. "What?"

"C'mon, it'll be fun. And you said let's take it slow." He was already thinking about where to take her. Fancy or causal? Conventional or quirky?

"I don't know," Tessa leaned back against him, reassuming the position she'd been holding all afternoon, leaning against his chest. After a moment, she spoke again, "Yeah, okay—what the hell? Dinner it is. Pick me up at eight."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note:

** TRIGGER WARNING: There is (short and vague and not very descriptive) self-harm in this chapter. **Because the instances are short and not written in detail, I feel that the T-rating for the FanFiction remains appropriate. However, I do realise that such topics can be triggers for some people. To avoid these references to self harm, stop reading when Nate asks, "You want some pizza?" and start reading again when Tessa says, "You have a girlfriend?" AND stop reading the chapter at the line that ends, "Everything was perfect." But if you want to just skip over this chapter, don't worry and you don't even have to tell me- I will include a summary (omitting the self-harm) of this chapter in the start of Chapter Five's author's note to bring you up to speed! :-)

Other than that, there's little to say. **On my profile I have posted links** to various things (like, books and clothes) that the characters mention/wear in this story. The dress Tessa wore to the White House is up there, as is a very nice blue dress Tessa wears later on in this chapter... ;-)

Sorry for the long delay with updates, I really struggled with writer's block when it came to this chapter. I hope it turned out well. Enjoy!

Thank you all for your reviews! A shout-out to those people who reviewed anonymously so I couldn't thank them personally for reviewing. Thanks, guys! The reviews always make me smile!

- VioletRose136

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FOUR<p>

Going to dinner was easier said than done. In order to ensure privacy (from the press) and safety (as Will was one of the most likely people in the world to get kidnapped) the Secret Service had to deck out several restaurant options and decide which would be the most secure and least prone to paparazzi visits. So after she went to the White House, Tessa did not speak to Will again for a few days. It was more a matter of life keeping them both busy, instead of any personal strife. Or at least, that's what Tessa told herself every time she looked at her phone and rather than a text notification, saw her background picture of a wolf.

But Tessa kept busy. The opening night for _The Battleground of Love_ was only a few short weeks away. Even if Will had texted her it would have come second to _The Battleground_: this was her first play, the first time she had seen the characters she had dreamt of and created come to life. With her school having let out for break a few days before she met Will, Tessa found that she had all the time in the world to hang out at the theatre, working on it. Mostly it was unimportant stuff, a few set changes and a few costume changes—"Don't use that necklace, nobody would have worn something like that before the nineteenth century."— But there were also dress rehearsals with the understudies. While the entire cast did not have an understudy, Thomas and Jessamine both did. Tessa's friend Sophie was understudying for Jessamine and Sophie's boyfriend's brother, Gabriel, was understudying for Thomas. Tessa watched patiently and corrected them. Gabriel was not as a good actor as Thomas, but he was better looking which, for one or two performances—would not be a bad look for Joseph. The one thing she liked about Gabriel's portrayal of Joseph was that it was distinctly different to Thomas'. Gabriel's acting, while good, was not spectacular, but his ability to overtake a character and redefine the role, was. Under Thomas, Joseph was a well rounded, but pretty basic hero. Under Gabriel Joseph was different, Joseph was no longer the classic good looks and the will to do good by his nation. Joseph… had an edge. And Tessa liked that; it was what had made her convinced Magnus to let her give the role to Gabriel, even though there were others who were better actors.

Magnus had pushed his hands through his exotically coloured hair (he had chosen to have it be bright red for a few days, before dyeing it again) and looked up at Tessa. "Fine," He had said, "It's your play and your performance. If you wanna pick this guy, do it. But I hope you realise that if Thomas gets run over by a bus tomorrow, the role will be played by this guy—not someone who can actually _act_."

It was a little unfair of him to say, but Magnus had not had the career he had by being fair in his assessments. To Magnus, it was the best, or scrap. To Tessa… well, Gabriel had potential. Tessa pursed her lips and turned to Magnus. "I have faith in him… and maybe when you see how he plays Joseph, you will too. Thomas is great as the main guy, but Gabriel has the ability to go in there and burn the house down and dance on the ashes. With a little training, he might be a really good actor someday. You called this a trap for genius, well, I think that Gabriel is one."

Magnus had puffed out his cheeks and blown the air out, slowly. "Wow," He said, "You really are something else."

"Well, that's why you like me, isn't it?" Tessa winced; she hadn't meant the words to sound as flirty as they did. Her and Magnus got along… but Magnus was also thirty-five and she was seventeen. Magnus raised his eyebrows.

"It's why I think you have _potential_," He allowed and left the room.

Later that day, Tessa was walking around Capitol Hill. She wandered past the National Archives and the National History Museum (although she did stop in the latter for a moment, just to see Old Glory, the flag that had inspired Francis Scott Key to write The Star Spangled Banner) and headed down to see the White House Christmas tree. There were lots of people there, and all the netting on the tree made it look like a Dalek (an alien from _Doctor Who_, a show Tessa liked). She looked around at the fifty smaller trees that had similar netting. She soon realised that the netting had lights in it, and the entire thing would look more attractive at night. She had a latte from Starbucks in her hand and sat down on a bench near the tree. To her right was the White House; the flag was up, indicating that the President was there. Tessa looked at her phone again and saw nothing from Will. She frowned and put the phone back in her pocket. She looked down at her latte and wrapped her fingerless gloves more securely around it. Next to her, a boy sat down. Well, not a boy exactly. He was about her age, with dark hair. She glanced at him and noticed that he was either Asian, or he had Asian heritage. On his lap was a black book and he was writing in it, she peered over at the page: It was a diary planner, the kind that has a whole page dedicated to a single day. After a minute, the guy looked up at her and smiled.

"You see something you like?" His accent was fully American, Asian heritage it was.

Tessa blushed. "I…I didn't mean to pry."

He shrugged. "I don't mind, it's nothing overly private. I just write down appointments and reminders and little scribbles about things that went on during the day. I find it's a lot easier than a journal. I'm not really good at documenting my feelings."

Tessa laughed. "That sounds a bit dark."

"I don't mean it to sound like anything." He grinned at her. "I'm James, but most people call me Jem," He said, closing the book on one of his hands to keep the place and offering her the other one. "Jem Carstairs."

"Theresa Gray," She said, accepting his outstretched hand.

"Ah, Theresa. The harvest…"

Tessa laughed. "Is that what my name means?"

"Sort of, it derives from the Greek word for the harvest… but it was made infamous by Roman-Catholic Saints."

"Wow, you do know a lot." Tessa's voice was playful. "I'm a grey harvest, that's a wonderful thing to be."

Jem shrugged and smiled. "My name means Supplanter."

"What's that?"

"It's like… I think replacing something with something else? Music is my passion, Theresa." Jem said, "Not names."

"Tessa," She corrected softly. "You do music? What kind?"

"Classical, I play the violin. Which is odd, because I tend to listen to rock and indie music. My taste in music is awful, but when I play it…" Jem's expression was suddenly far away. "When I play it, it becomes something new. It's different. I'd just come up with a tune when you sat down."

"What did it sound like?"

Jem didn't have his violin with him, but he hummed the tune. It sounded strange and haunting. It put Tessa in mind of her own favourite tune, _Greensleeves. _She had looked at her hands while Jem had hummed, but when he finished she brought her eyes back up to his.

"I'm doing a play," She told him, grasping her bag and bringing it closer to her, ready for opening. "And I can't quite seem to get the right music for it."

Jem's expression didn't change, but his eyes were curious. "A play?"

"Yes… _The Battleground of Love_," She winced at the overly dramatic title. She had written the first draft of the play when she was thirteen, before she had experienced anything bordering on romance. Of course, she still hadn't experienced that much in terms of romance. She had dated a few people here and there; one of her relationships had even lasted for five months… but that boyfriend, Joshua, had been more interested in League of Legends (something she understood little, but believed that it was an online role-playing game) than her. The image of Will's face crossed her mind and she pushed it away. "It's set during the English Civil War…" She explained the premise of her play to Jem, "And at the end, Rachel is running away—she's disguised as a boy—and she is killed. The end music for the chase… I can't quite seem to find a piece to fit the mood I wanted, maybe you could help me?"

Jem tilted his head to one side and bit his lip (soon Tessa would learn that this was the pose he adopted while thinking deeply about music). After a few moments, he gathered his things and stood. Tessa looked up in surprise: Was he leaving?

"Come on," He told her, "I know a café not too far from here—we can go there and I can look at your play… do you have a copy with you?" He added on a second thought.

Tessa nodded and stood, too. "I do. It's not the finalised script, but it'll do for what you want."

"Okay, let's go." He nodded towards the pathway that led back towards the National Achieves, away from the White House Christmas tree. Tessa glanced briefly back at the White House, her heart sinking as she thought of Will. For the thousandth time, she pushed thoughts of Will away and with new resolve pushed herself to her feet and followed Jem.

It was really a nice afternoon. The café Jem knew was part of a small chain Tessa had heard of before. They bought lattes and sat in the window where Jem went through her script. A lot of the afternoon was quiet; her gazing out the window while Jem read what she had written, but it was pleasant. Tessa didn't mind people watching and she liked Jem. He hoped to go to Julliard in the fall.

Around six in the evening, they separated and Tessa took the Metro back to Van Ness. When she got home, her brother Nate was the only one home. He sat on the couch playing _Dragon Age: Origins_. Tessa wasn't too experienced in the matters of gaming, but she found that _Dragon Age_ was a game she actually really liked. She grabbed some coffee and came and sat down by Nate.

"Hey," He said, not looking at her. His eyes were focused in front of him. It appeared that he'd restarted the game, choosing to play as a Mage. He'd started only a little while before and was running around looking for a Senior Mage to sign his form for a fire rod. Tessa tucked her feet up under her and watched him play, offering occasional advice. After their avatar—a beautiful, redheaded mage with tattoos swirling over her high cheekbones—was recruited to the Grey Wardens, Nate saved and closed the game. He tossed the controller onto the couch between them. They both looked at it and then looked up at each other, the unison of their movements made them laugh and Nate jumped over the couch, heading to their kitchen.

"You want some pizza?" He asked, opening the freezer and pulling a frozen pizza out. Tessa looked over her shoulder and nodded. Once the oven was preheating, Nate came back to the couch. He reached for the remote and as he did, the sleeve of his cotton blue shirt pushed up. Tessa looked at it and then glanced again. Along his wrist was a (fairly thick) scab. It didn't look life threatening, but it didn't look like it had been that comfortable to get, either.

Tessa touched Nate's elbow. "How did you get that?" She asked, nodding to his arm. He looked where she was looking and rushed to pull the sleeve down to cover the cut. He pulled his arm away.

"Girlfriend's cat," He explained, looking away from her and then—almost as if it was a second thought—reaching for his water.

"You have a girlfriend?" Tessa was surprised. Nate had never mentioned a girlfriend before. Considering he was a year older than her, she found that rather strange. Nate was not the sort of person who would be unwillingly single: With blond hair and blue eyes, he would have made a fantastic pinup boy.

He shrugged. "Maybe,"

"Oh come on, tell me about—" Her words were cut short when her phone started ringing. She jumped up and grabbed her coat from where she'd flung it when she'd gotten home. Searching through the pockets, she rummaged around until she came up with her phone, answering it on the very last ring. The caller ID was unknown. "Hello?" She said breathlessly.

"Theresa," A voice said on the other line. Her stomach did flip-flops. "Might I ask you to do me the honour of accompanying me to dinner in about twenty minutes?"

Tessa bit her lip. "I haven't heard from you in days," She said and then winced—it sounded so needy. But the thought was out there, so she might as well keep talking. _Talking myself into a hole_, she thought. "What makes you think I'm going to go to dinner with you tonight?"

"Because," Will replied, "I found the most marvellous little place in Georgetown. And besides, it was you, _Theresa _who wanted to take things slowly. I was merely honouring that request and giving you space."

Tessa felt a wave of annoyance. She took three deep breaths and counted to ten before she responded. "I know I did," She said softly, but sternly. "And I appreciate you respecting that, but you can't just call me up and tell me to be ready in twenty minutes. I will do this time, because I want to see you, but I could be busy and as you say, we're taking it slow. I can't just abandon people and move around things for you."

When he answered, Will sounded somewhat ashamed. "Okay, Tessa," He said, having dropped the use of her full name. "Dress nicely, this place has like, five stars. It's in Georgetown."

His timid retreat made her laugh. "Call me when you're outside."

"I will." He replied, and hung up.

Nate looked up at her, "Hot date?" He asked and when she nodded, he looked at her sideways. "Make sure he treats you right, okay? I don't want some hot celebrity bozo fucking with my sister."

His worry warmed Tessa's heart; she leaned over and nuzzled his shoulder. "It'll be fine, Nate."

"If it's not I'll beat him up."

She laughed. "If you can get through the Secret Service, I commend you."

Once in her room, Tessa searched frantically through her closet. She selected a royal blue V-neck sleeveless dress that had white lace and a thin blue belt encircling the waist. The skirt was soft and floated around her legs. She really liked the dress, but hadn't had the chance to wear it that often because it was rather formal, as well as retro. She picked out a black blazer that she'd gotten from GAP to wear over it in case the restaurant was chilly. She threw a pair of nylons and a black clutch onto the bed. Digging through her closet, she found the pair of Nine West heels her aunt had gotten her a year before. She hoped they still fit: They were very basic, black heels. She hoped what she had chosen wasn't too formal.

She put it all on, put a small drawstring bag with her Metro card and a twenty into her clutch, threw her phone and some lip balm in, too and then looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was painfully windblown and she did what she could with it until it looked semi-presentable. She threw on some tinted moisturiser and some mascara and lipstick and was ready to go when Will called to report that he was downstairs.

Nate eyed her outfit (in a protective, brotherly/fatherly way, not a sexualising way), but said nothing about it as she headed to the door, calling, "Bye! Tell the parental units I'll be out late."

And she took the elevator downstairs. Will had come in and was waiting in the lobby wearing a deep blue suit—one that was only a few shades darker than her dress, and not nearly as bright, over a white dress shirt. The suit had narrow lapels and was excellently tailored. The tie he wore with it matched the blue of the suit perfectly.

"You," He said as she approached him and kissed him lightly on the lips, "Look beautiful. I'm sorry for being a dick earlier."

Tessa laughed and shrugged it off: She was too happy to see him to be frustrated with him. "Where are we going?"

"It's in Georgetown," Will said, opening the car door for her. Today he had brought his bodyguards with him. Axel and Trevor both smiled and greeted Tessa when she got in and Will slid into the seat beside her. "It's supposed to be really fancy, it's all Italian food."

It didn't take too long to get to the restaurant. When they got to Georgetown, Trevor pulled up on one side of the street and Axel, Will and Tessa got out. Across from them was the restaurant, a quaint little place with brightly lit windows. The name of the chef who had founded it, _Grenna _was written in swirly letters above the door. Axel nodded for Tessa and Will to go ahead and spoke something Tessa couldn't hear into his microphone as they did.

"I imagine a few more agents will be inside," Will muttered to Tessa as he pushed open the door. Inside was fancy indeed. There was a small platform, where a harpist was playing and the walls were a soft yellow, with white crown moulding along the corners of the ceiling. There was a chandelier.

The host's eyes lit up as they walked towards him. "Mr. Herondale and Miss. Gray?" At Will's nod, the host grabbed two menus and led them through the front room and up some stairs at the back. They emerged into a smaller, but still elegant room with deep red walls. There was a table with a white tablecloth and a wide window that overlooked the street. It was a private dining room.

"Your waiter will be up shortly, may I bring you any drinks?"

Tessa asked for water, but Will asked for a gin and tonic. Tessa expected the host to decline, but he said nothing but, "I will bring it right out." Tessa guessed that being the President's son meant that you could get away with the occasional drink.

"So, Theresa,"

"William," Tessa looked up at him and let her eyes sparkle. "It's been a long time, stranger."

"And for that I apologise, you must understand that being the President's son does mean I have to make some appearances places." Will frowned, "That… and I couldn't find my charger. I'm sorry. Are you mad at me?"

Tessa replied that she was not and the host returned with their drinks. A little while later they ordered and they talked about current affairs until their food came. The rest of the dinner passed in that way: They talked, a course came, and they talked some more. Tessa noted that Will was acting quiet and that made her stomach twist nervously, but she feared looking overly obsessive and said nothing. After they ate, Will wiped his mouth and suggested that they go for a walk. The weather was admittedly cold, but Tessa had her coat and Will said he'd give her his coat if she really got uncomfortable.

They decided to go walk by the Chesapeake and Ohio canal. Trevor and Axel followed them at a distance, always vigilant. Tessa looked back and laughed. "I feel a little bit like a young Victorian lady," She admitted, they were walking close, but they weren't holding hands. She bumped into Will's shoulder playfully. "Having to be escorted by an entourage when out with my gentlemen friend."

"On the contrary," Will replied, "It's I who should feel like the Victorian lady, as they're MY entourage."

Tessa laughed and Will wrapped his arm around her shoulders. It was the first time he had done this all evening. She sighed and leaned into him and somehow found the courage to ask, "Are you okay? You're very quiet."

It was a few moments before Will responded, "Christmas is in a few days," He murmured. Guessing that this wasn't Will's entire answer, Tessa waited and after a moment he continued, "I'm going to be around for the Correspondent's Dinner, but I go back to England on the eleventh. Term starts again that week."

He seemed finished. Tessa prompted, "And?"

He stopped and turned so that they were looking each other straight in the eye. Tessa was on the tall side for a girl—hitting 5'9—but Will's frame of 6'0 loomed over her easily. He took her hands in his, pressing them to his chest, which felt very warm in comparison to the icy night. "And… what's going on here, Tessa?"

"I…" She felt lost for words. "We're taking it slow." She said dumbly.

"Yeah… the thing is, we don't really have time to take it slow," Will said, and then he coloured. "I mean, in terms of our relationship… the emotional side," He said quickly, floundering over his words, "Not the uh, physical side. Sex. I'm not saying we—"

Tessa laughed, interrupting him, "I know what you meant," She flashed him a smile and his face relaxed. "I… I suppose you're right. If you go back to England and we're not, I mean… if we haven't figured it out it will probably just fizzle out."

"I've never been in a long distance relationship," Will told Tessa, "But… I don't know. I think we could manage. There's video-calling and Facebook and I think I could probably come home for a weekend every month. I think there's money in my family's budget for that."

Tessa bit her lip. She had Tumblr; she'd seen all the posts, all the quotes from long-distance songs. She looked up at Will, "What do you want?" She asked quietly.

"You," He said right away, as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world. Later, when she would think about it, Tessa would realise that it probably was the most obvious thing in the world. "I know you said you didn't want to go fast, Tessa… and I respect that. But the problem is that we don't have much time to go slow. And… I don't know Tessa, I feel like I barely know you and then I see you and I see your smile and… and I feel like I do." He ran his hand through his hair, "God, I sound crazy right now."

Tessa's voice was quiet, "You don't sound crazy."

"I just… there's something about you, Tessa. And maybe I'm crazy, but I want to explore it… and if taking a wild and crazy jump like this is what I have to do to get the chance to explore it and to spend more time with you and talk to you more, well… I'll take it. I'll take whatever I can get."

She knew how he felt… because she felt the same way about him. The only reason she took it slow was because that was the expected thing to do—and the reasonable thing to do. But what was the point in taking it slow when they had so little time? She wasn't marrying him tomorrow. She could duck out of the relationship at any moment. She looked up at him and nodded, "Me too." She whispered.

Tessa believed that she had never seen anybody smile quite so widely as Will did in that moment. "So," He said shyly, "We're together?"

Tessa nodded, quite sure that her own smile mirrored Will's. "Yep."

"You're my girlfriend?"

"That's the definition of it." She felt giddy.

Will said nothing more, but he leaned down and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything she had. Because that was what you were supposed to do when you were a teenager, you were supposed to kiss with your whole heart. She knew that even if it came down in flames, even if this wild and crazy chance proved to be plain crazy, she would always remember this moment. The moment where she was with Will and she was kissing him and his arms were wrapped around her and when everything was perfect.

It was really getting quite cold. They headed back to the car and Trevor took Tessa back up to Van Ness. It was late, but Tessa didn't know how late. She felt like she was dancing on cloud nine. She kissed Will and he promised he'd call once he returned to the White House. She got into the elevator and headed up to her apartment. Her parents had gone out and Nate was in his room.

She grabbed some crackers (she wasn't that hungry, she just wanted something to nibble on) and headed to her room. She crammed the crackers into her mouth and dumped her stuff on the bed. Chewing, she went over to the bathroom door and opened it—straight into Nate's back. With a shout of pain, he jumped away from the door to her bedroom, which he had been standing a few inches away from. In an instant, Tessa took three things in: first, that he was grasping his wrist with one hand, second, that there was a razor in the sink… and third, that his wrist was bleeding.

As she stared up at him, her phone began to ring.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: 

_ Summary of Chapter Four: A few days go by Tessa works hard on her play, she goes to see the White House Christmas Tree and there, she meets Jem who she spends an afternoon with. She gets home and plays Dragon Age: Origins with Nate and Will calls, asking her to go out to dinner. They go out to dinner in Gerogetown and decide that they are officially together and will attempt a long distance relationship when Will goes back to England. _

**Trigger warning: This chapter (briefly) discusses self harm, although it isn't portrayed. **But that's just at the start, if you skip the beginning and go down to when Sophie says, "Your top, Tessa. What is with your top?" It won't get mentioned again. But, like with the last chapter, I will include a summary of what happens in this chapter if you feel that you just can't read this chapter, at the start of chapter five.

Notes about this chapter (per usual):

- I know Jem doesn't have a half-sister in the series, but this isn't a series, this is FanFiction: roll with it.

- Thank you to MagicAndSparklez who is the muse for this chapter.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I appreciate everyone who takes the time to review this. I love reviews. Review. Keep on reviewing. Review more...

...Sorry.

Enjoy!

- VioletRose136

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><p>CHAPTER FIVE<p>

"I don't know, he was just kind of… standing there," Tessa shrugged and reached over, grabbing some popcorn. "And his wrist was bleeding. It was pretty obvious what he'd done."

Sophie was sitting on the bed across from Tessa. Her hazel eyes were wide as she listened to her best friend recount the day before. Sophie had dark hair and a rosy complexion. She was wearing a loose white V-neck sweater and black skinny jeans that Tessa could never have pulled off. She pulled her dark hair up into a ponytail before she answered. "Did you like, say anything to him when it happened?" Like everything else about Sophie, her hair was dark and perfect, falling in waves around her shoulders when it was down and pressing itself into the perfect ponytail when she put it up. Tessa glanced enviously at Sophie's hair for a moment and then shook her head.

"No, I went to turn off my phone—it was ringing—and when I came back Nate had gone back into his room. I tried to get him to talk to me, but he said that he was busy. The next morning he only came out of his room once our parents were up, because he knew that I'd never confront him about it in front of mom and dad." She sighed. "I really don't know, Soph, what am I supposed to do about it? What can I do about it?"

"Hmm," Sophie thought for a minute, "Well… I mean, he's only doing it because it releases endorphins, so that's like, a thing. It's better than smoking. I mean, it's not good, but… it's not really bad. So long as he doesn't go too deep or it doesn't get infected. It's relief."

Tessa gave her a look that indicated that she thought otherwise. "And what makes you say that? And relief from what?" She added. There was a bare thread on the cuff of her sweater, she picked at it. She was wearing a tight black V-neck sweater that plunged dangerously and a pair of skinny blue jeans. She'd kicked her flats off somewhere on Sophie's floor and from her perch on the bed, couldn't see them.

Sophie shrugged. "I don't know, I just don't think it's really all that bad. I mean, it's bad, but it's not life threatening. I don't think he's doing it because he wants to die or something like that, I think he's doing it 'cause for some reason it relieves all the stress he has." She sighed. "I'm sorry, Tessa. We could Google how to talk to people about self-harm, if you wanted?"

Tessa thought about it and then shook her head. "I just don't know," She muttered, looking over Sophie's bed and out to the window where bare branches stood inches from the glass. Self consciously, she pulled at her top.

Sophie could tell Tessa didn't want to talk about it anymore. She could tell that in the way that anyone could tell anything about his or her best friend. She changed the subject. "Your top, Tessa. What is with your top? Are you wearing a _push-up-bra_? Oh my God!" She reached over and tried to peel Tessa's sweater down for a better look, but Tessa leapt away from her.

"Get off!" She said playfully, batting Sophie away.

"But are you? Omigod, Tessa, you and Will aren't like, doing it are you…?"

Tessa blushed, "No! Of course not." She was glad Sophie hadn't seen her bra though, the red satin fabric and black lace would certainly have her best friend asking a lot of questions that she didn't quite know the answer to… or maybe, answers she wasn't ready to give anyone, yet. "I'm just going over to the White House after rehearsal. He said he wanted to talk to me about something."

"And you felt that you had to look devastatingly sexy for him?"

Tessa laughed. "I don't look devastatingly sexy."

"That plunging top? Tessa, you know your boobs are already huge," (This wasn't strictly true, they were C-cups, impressive, but not quite living up to the cup-size of some superhero's she'd grown up with.) Sophie looked up at Tessa, "Does he know you're a virgin?"

Tessa blushed, "I don't think so, I mean, I haven't exactly told him."

"Gideon was a virgin before me," Sophie reminded her. (Sophie hadn't been a virgin; a former boyfriend named Teddy had taken care of that.) "I always found it kind of creepy that he didn't tell me until afterwards. I kind of felt like you know, I should know that sort of thing about him going into it. Well, you know, I sort of did—from Joe, but he didn't know I knew and anyway, I wasn't sure."

"Would that really have changed anything?" Tessa asked, knowing full well that it wouldn't have, but she was glad to have the topic off her own virginity for the moment. "But, are first times really that great? I remember you saying yours was pretty lame."

Sophie shook her head, "Nah, it was Gideon. I wasn't going to change my mind about what I wanted." And then Sophie made a face, "And my first time _was_ lame, I could barely feel him. And then when it was over he asked me for clarification—_'Did we just take each other's virginity?'_" Sophie made a face. Tessa had known Sophie back then and met Teddy once, he'd been unusually short for a guy, lacked a jawline and reminded you of a rat if you looked at him for too long. Tessa hadn't really been able to see the appeal. In the present, she laughed.

"It's all over now," She assured Sophie.

"Thank God," Sophie looked up and then focused her gaze back on. "So, do you think Will will be Your First?"

"We haven't really talked about it." Tessa admitted.

"You don't really need to talk about it. You just need to do it," Sophie wiggled her eyebrows at Tessa. "I mean, do you like him? 'Cause that's what really matters: If you like him… and if you really, really want IT. But yeah, do you like him?"

"Oh my God," Tessa looked at Sophie, "Do you think I'd be walking around in this—" She indicated her sweater, "—If I didn't? God, he's just… he's so tall and he's just handsome as hell. And he likes _me_, which makes no sense."

"He _is _hot," Sophie agreed, undoubtedly thinking of the countless magazines that had carried Will's picture. "And why wouldn't he like you? You're really interesting and hot, oh my."

Tessa gave her a look, "You're heterosexual. You're not a good judgement on whether or I'm hot. Let's find a lesbian and ask them." As she said it, Tessa worried that the comment might sound slightly homophobic, but reasoned that she hadn't actually said anything bad. A lesbian would be able to judge the hotness of a girl better than a straight girl could, right?

"I could call my cousin, she's bisexual." Sophie offered, reaching for her phone. "We could ask if she'd be willing to FaceTime us and give us her verdict."

"No! Don't do that." Tessa hadn't actually meant the joke. She grabbed her own phone: There was a text from Will and nothing else. She glanced at the time and groaned. "I'm gonna be late even if I run from the Metro. Can you drive me?"

"You know I only have a permit," Sophie reminded her, "But sure. But if we get arrested, you are so paying me back for bail."

Tessa agreed to pay Sophie back if they got arrested, but neither was really worried about it. Sophie was a good driver and hadn't passed her test because she simply hadn't taken it yet. The chances that they'd get pulled over were minimal. They headed down to the car and threw on some Taylor Swift as they drove through the streets, towards the drama centre. Sophie dropped Tessa off just five minutes after she was supposed to be there (and about fifteen minutes before she could've made it on the Metro) and told her she'd text her later. Tessa nodded and got out of the car. She was wearing her black wool coat, which went to the mid-thigh and had a (fake) fur-lined hood. She pulled the hood up to guard her hair against the wind and wrapped her white scarf more securely around her.

Standing outside the drama hall was Jem, who leaned against the brick building. He wore a pair of red skinny jeans and a black T-shirt advertising some foreign band on it. He smiled when he saw her, "Hey," He said, "Ready to introduce me to your kind of crazy drama-leader?"

Tessa had told Jem about Magnus when they'd gone to the coffee shop. Jem had been intrigued and demanded to meet him. He'd promised to help her sort out some of the music for her play and so she'd let him come, even though she wasn't quite sure how Magnus would react to having an uninvited stranger in their midst. Magnus didn't usually like strangers, and in his drama hall (the equivalent of a temple) well, she wasn't sure how it was going to go down. But Jem had been willing to face a BB-gun if need be and so she'd let him come. She rolled her eyes and pushed open the door, she led them down the corridor and into the big performance hall itself.

When she entered the performance hall, everything was in chaos. The first thing she noticed that was unusual was that Magnus was actually _there_. He'd pop in and out during rehearsal, but never in known memory had Tessa actually heard of him being there at the beginning of a rehearsal. Jessamine and Thomas stood near him and she spotted Gabriel a little ways away. They were frowning. Worrying, she sped up with Jem on her heels, Magnus turned just as she reached him. His eyes immediately flicked to Jem.

"Who's the—" He shook his head, "I don't care. Look, Tessa, there's been a problem with _The Battlefield of Love._ One of the producers has pulled out—one of the big donators," He paused. It was unlike Magnus to pause in the middle of saying something and Tessa's stomach sank.

"Surely," Tessa began, before Magnus could begin to speak again, "The show can go on?" It was a weak joke, but Magnus smiled sympathetically. Tessa's heart plummeted through the floor. Magnus never smiled sympathetically when it was good news. She looked between him and Jem, "Excuse me," She said and quickly separating herself from the two of them, "I… I just need—"

"Tessa," Jem stepped forward to follow her, but she stopped him with a motion of her hand. The room was already spinning. _Will_, she thought,_ I need to talk to Will. _

"Really," She said, backing towards the door. "I'll only be a moment, and then we can talk about this, please, just one moment, excuse me."

Before Jem could say anything else, Tessa rushed from the room. She rushed from the horrible place that was telling her that her beloved play, that Rachel and Joseph; her beloved characters would never be seen. She hurried down a corridor and up a flight of stairs, which always smelled strangely of cleanser. She went to the top floor and found an abandoned room, which was painted yellow. A decrepit piano stood in the corner and there was a metal folding chair in the centre of the room. Tessa dropped into it and pulled her phone out of her bag. She texted Sophie, first, but then she dialled Will's number.

He answered on the fourth ring. "Hey you," He said as a greeting, "I wasn't expecting to hear from you until later. Well, to be honest I was expecting to hear from Jacob, telling me you were outside. What's up?"

She was silent for a moment, "Will, I'm at rehearsal."

"Oh cool," He said, she could hear Call of Duty (or was it Battlefield?) in the background. "How's that going? Is Gabriel still awful at acting? Did Magnus take well to Jem being there?"

"Will," She said again, "I'm at rehearsal and… and I've just been told that my play… my play can't happen. A producer pulled out and I don't know why. I haven't yet spoken to Magnus about why… I just, needed to talk to you. Because," She couldn't really come up with a reason: _Because you're who I want to run to when something bad happens, I know you can protect me_. She sighed, "Will, I don't know what to do, I worked so hard on it."

The video game sounds had stopped, "They're not going to perform _The Battlefield of Love_?" He said, "Oh Tessa, I'm so sorry. Hey, listen. I'll come get you, okay? You said it was near Friendship Heights? Hang on," He was silent for a moment and Tessa realised that she'd been put on hold, when he came back he said, "Tessa, are you there? Okay, Trevor knows the place. I'll be there in twenty minutes. Do you want dinner? We can stop by Potomac Pizza if you want."

"No," Tessa said, "I'm not hungry," She murmured.

"Okay then, go down and talk to Magnus, try and figure this out. Gee, I'm sorry Tessa." He said again, "I'll be there soon, okay? I found a movie you'd really like and I was going to show it to you later, but it's called _Bridget Jones' Diary_ and I saw it and I thought of you. It's based on _Pride and Prejudice_, I don't know if you've read it but I don't know maybe you'd like it. We can watch it as soon as you get to the White House, maybe it'll cheer you up. It's not much, but I guess it's something."

Tessa could only smile at his thoughtfulness. She was not a huge fan of _Pride and Prejudice_, but _Emma_ was a great favourite of hers. This was not a fact she had shared with Will. Perhaps he had just picked it up. She replied, "That sounds like a great film. I'll be ready in twenty minutes."

"Tessa?"

"Yes, Will?" She paused, her hand hovering over the 'End' button.

"I'm really sorry about this. I'll see if I can't fix it for you. Maybe my father can donate the money, I'll—"

"Will don't," She said, her heart sinking again, "You can't fix it, although I appreciate the thought."

He sighed, loud enough that she could hear it through the phone, "Okay, Theresa. I'll be there soon." He promised. He hung up so quietly that it took Tessa a moment to realise that the call had ended. She put her head in her hands. Her play, the play she had spent hours working on, hours crafting and hours trying to convince Magnus to let her perform… it was down the drain. _The Battlefield of Love _would sit on her shelf; next to that novel manuscript she'd written when she was fourteen and her _Little_ _House_ books. She heard the door open, and looked up.

Jem stood in the doorway. He stood awkwardly for a moment, pausing, as if he was contemplating going into the lion's den. Then, he stepped forward. Tessa quickly wiped her eyes on her sleeve, embarrassed that she'd been caught crying.

She looked at him for a minute, "Hi." She said, there really wasn't anything else to say. What did he think of her now? In the afternoon they'd spent together, she'd championed her play so hard.

"Do you need a glass of water?" He asked, pulling up a chair and sitting down across from her. Tessa shook her head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of tissues. He handed it to her and she took it—without thanking him—and blew her nose. She waded up her tissue in her hand and handed the packet back to him.

"Thanks," She took a deep, shaky breath, "I'm sorry for leaving you there, I just…" She sighed. "I was so happy, I'd finally well, done it… except I haven't. But it was rude of me to leave you down there, especially with Magnus. I'm sorry."

He reached out, rubbing her shoulder soothingly. "Hey, don't worry. I've been through this sort of thing before." She looked up at him questioningly, and he amended himself, "Well, I haven't, not specifically. But my half-sister, she desperately wanted to go to university in England, she wanted to go to Oxford. She applied for a History course, and to apply for that, you need to have taken this exam… I think it's called the HAT, but anyway, she gets a computer and extra time during an exam and so she went and took the HAT," He took a deep breath, "Basically, she didn't time it right because what happened was that she thought she had forty five minutes than she did because the computer clock was wrong, so she didn't finish it. And it was just, wow, she's worked so hard and just barely scraped the grades together to get in and then… poof, out the window."

"They couldn't do anything about it?"

He shook his head. "Nah, you can only take the HAT once a year. And that was it. The examinations officer was a real bitch, though. It was HER responsibility to make sure this kind of thing didn't happen… and all she could do was offer to apply for 'special consideration' and my sister, Lillian, had heard about a girl whose mom had died like, the day before she took the HAT so she didn't do that well and Oxford hadn't cared, they still said no. But yeah, I… it was pretty nasty. Her school was pretty apologetic that they let it happen, though. And UCAS—that's the British university application system, like the Common App—gave her back the place so she could apply somewhere else, 'cause you only get to apply to five universities through UCAS."

"Oh," Tessa frowned, "I'm sorry."

He waved her away, "Nah, don't worry about it. She ended up reading History at the University of York. She stayed over there, married this nerdy math guy who'd gone to Cambridge, Emmett. She even got her MA in Medieval Studies from York." He shrugged. "It's not the same as a play, I know, but she had dreams too and hers changed a little, but it still worked out. She'd probably never have met Emmett if she had gone to Oxford. Oxford and Cambridge are such rivals." He added wryly.

Tessa smiled. "I have hope now, maybe I can go to York and do my performance." It wasn't that funny a quip, but Jem chuckled.

"Maybe, but don't knock York. It's a great city. A city so great they named it like, six times over here."

"Six times?"

He shrugged, "That I know of, there's New York the state, New York the city, Yorktown… and then there's a few other places, I think there's a York in Pennsylvania or something like that."

"That's only four places."

"Beside the point," Jem smiled. "Anyway, things happen for a reason, okay? Your play seemed pretty awesome. And I bet you can learn from this and write a book about it, maybe even include it in the book."

Tessa smiled, "Thanks for finding me." She told him. After a moment of thought, she stood up and sighed. (There seemed to be a lot of sighing that day.) "Okay, let's go find Magnus and figure this out."

And that's what they did. Heading back downstairs, they found Magnus on the phone, yelling at someone who hadn't altered them that the producer was having second thoughts. They learned that without the funding, there was little that could be done to save The Battleground of Love. After awhile, it kind of started to feel like Tessa was pushing against a great brick wall. She felt her spirits sinking again, when her phone rang.

"Hey, I'm outside." Will told her. She told him she'd be out in a minute and turned to Magnus and the group, telling them that she had to go. Magnus sighed and told her that they'd meet on the fourth of January to talk about their next project (a project he probably wouldn't turn over to her). Tessa looked around at her actors and the backstage people, they'd all worked so hard, given up so much of their time to come and do this for her.

"Thank you," She said. "Thank you for all of this. I won't forget it."

And then she had turned (with Jem) and left. She didn't feel that she could stay, watch people clear their belongings, watch the props and costumes be categorised and put back into storage. She just had to leave. Outside, Will was leaning against his Mercedes and he straightened up as her and Jem came out. Reaching for her, he drew her into his embrace, which she found oddly comforting as she inhaled the deep, minty scent of him. After he'd kissed her, Will looked at Jem.

"You must be Jem," He said, extending his hand. "Thank you for looking after my Tessa. Have you been looking after her?"

The words were oddly parental and aged, looking at Jem, she thought she saw a sparkle of amusement in his eyes as he reached out and shook Will's hand. "I wouldn't say I took care of her, I just bored her with stories of my sister's academic failure."

Will looked confused, but Tessa laughed. It felt good to laugh. "You were great, thank you Jem."

He smiled and then made to go, "I'll text you, okay?" He told her. She smiled and nodded. "Maybe we can go to that Matisse exhibit downtown." Tessa promised him that they'd work it out and then he left, and she got into the car with Will.

He was oddly quiet as they drove down towards the White House. When she asked him what the problem was, Will pursed his lips and said, "Jem is pretty good looking, Tessa."

"I hadn't noticed," She said airily. The truth was that she had noticed, but she wasn't idiotic enough to say so to Will. "Why, are you jealous?" She teased.

"A little," He admitted, reaching down and holding her hand across the seat. She expected him to say more—maybe ban her from seeing Jem (that would not have gone well for him, at all)—but he didn't. He changed the subject, "Are you okay, though? What happened with your play?"

Tessa explained the vague details she'd understood, "But it's behind me now," She said, even though her heart still felt like it had a tremendous weight on it. "I guess, I just have to keep on going now."

"Well, not tonight. Tonight you can eat as much ice cream as you want and we can watch whatever you want on TV. Hell, I'll even watch _Gossip Girl _if that would make you happy." She giggled and he smiled at her. When he smiled at her, she couldn't help but feel all warm, right down to her toes.

They headed up to the residence, no one but Cecily was home and she was in her room, on the other side of the family rooms. They settled themselves on Will's couch in his bedroom and Will turned on _Family_ _Guy_. Tessa liked _Unrested_, but hadn't really been in the mood for something that required that much thinking or attention. They watched a few episodes in silence and then Tessa just couldn't hold it back anymore: She cried, she cried really hard, like her life depended on it. She cried because of Nate, she cried because of her play and she cried because it felt really good to cry. Will held her, rocking her gently and whispering sweet words to her. When her sobs had reduced to whimpers, Will tipped her face up to his, and kissed her. It was a soft kiss, devoid of any passion, but instead full of warmth. He kissed her over and over and over again until her tears were dried and her heart was full.

"Hey," He said, once they'd reassumed their positions on the couch, Tessa's head on Will's chest, his arms around her, "Do you like balls?" She looked at him in shock, not sure whether or not to be alarmed, or disgusted. Was this Will's idea of foreplay? Seeing her face, he laughed, "No, no, no, not like—no, Tessa… I'm talking about dances. Formal dances, you know, balls?"

Oh! Tessa laughed, too. "I've never been to one, why do you ask?"

"Well, there's a New Year's Ball, not here, but at some government building—I think the Longworth or Cannon Building. And anyway, my parents are making me go. They have to go to a different one, but they keep telling me I should go to this one so it looks good." He rolled his eyes, "Would you like to go with me?"

She was quiet, and then said shyly. "Would I get to wear a pretty dress?"

"Of course." He looked shocked, "I mean, you could show up in a paper bag, but I imagine people would judge you for that. And by judging you, they'd start judging me… and by extension, my family. I'd prefer you wear a gown if I'm honest." His voice was humorous.

"Oh okay," Tessa laid her head back onto his chest, she could feel his heartbeat. "I'll talk to my Fairy Godmother and see if she can't—" Tessa yawned, "—If she can't make some adjustments to the usual paper-bag design. I can't promise you, though."

"Hey," Will said, running a hand through her long hair. "I bet you'd look great in a paper bag. Real sexy, too. Except, if it got wet you'd be in trouble…"

Tessa giggled again, and twisting around, she kissed him.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: 

_Summary of Chapter Five: Tessa spends some time with her best friend Sophie, where they talk about losing their virginity, bras, icky ex's and everything else teenage girls talk about. Then, she goes to rehearse, but finds that a producer has pulled out of the play, and it is cancelled. She is upset and Jem comforts her, as does Will when he arrives and takes her back to the White House. There, they cuddle and watch Family Guy, and Will asks her to go to a New Years Eve ball with him, which she agrees to do._

**Content Warning**: Minor (non-explicit) sexual scenes in this chapter. This FanFic will retain rights to its T-rating. It's hardly Fifty Shades of Grey, people.

ALSO: I have a poll up on my profile, asking people what I should write about next. Go, go and vote! Also on my profile you'll find Tessa's dress (but remember, it's the black version, not the blue version that comes up) and the gift that Will gives to Tessa later in this chapter.

This is a very long chapter, which I actually started writing BEFORE Chapter Five, because this chapter has just been in my head for so freaking long that I just had to get it out onto paper (or more accurately, my screen). This chapter is 5,928 words and seventeen pages long. Eeek.

Thanks for the reviews!

- VioletRose136

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><p>CHAPTER SIX<p>

"Should I try the blue one on again?" Tessa asked, turning around in the mirror. The dress she had on was not at all flattering: turquoise, with cap sleeves and a cut out neckline, it made her look strangely boxy. It was only the third dress she'd tried on, but her spirit was already sinking. New Year's Eve was tomorrow and she still had nothing to wear to the ball.

Her mom (who had come with her) pursed her lips. "Try the magenta one," She said at last. Tessa did as she was told, going back into the dressing room and taking the magenta dress off of the hanger. The dress had an empire waist with flowering detail on one shoulder (the other shoulder was plain). She came back out of the dressing room and her mother bit her lip and shook her head. "No," She said, "It's too summery. Does this come in black?" She asked, turning to the shop assistant, who shook her head and replied no.

Tessa and her mother had been searching for the right gown for her to wear all morning. They'd started out at Montgomery Mall, but quickly rejected that and moved onto other stores. Now they were at Pentagon City in a small boutique store. They'd had better luck here than at the other places, none of the dresses Tessa had tried on so far looked like something stolen from Barbie's Dream Prom, but she still felt like she hadn't found the right dress. And the right dress was important: This was her first public appearance with Will. There would be photographers there and maybe even a few news people. It would potentially, thrust her into the public eye, which Elizabeth was not thrilled about, but nevertheless, she had patiently taken Tessa from store to store, looking for just the right dress.

"Try the pink and gold one," Elizabeth said, sitting back down. Tessa went back into the dressing room and texted Will.

_This is ridiculous. _She wrote, after she'd sent him a photo of the latest dress. _Can I show up in sweatpants? Is that cool? _

His response was instant. _Keep looking; I'm sure you'll find something suitable. Remember what my mother told you_: "_Elegant, but not overly sexy. Don't show a lot of skin, less is always more."_

The First Lady had extensively spoken to Tessa about what would be needed: She had warded her away from bright colours and big skirts and explained how absolutely ruthless fashion editors would be. Linette had already agreed to help Tessa sort out her hair and makeup prior to the ball, for which she was grateful. In regard to the dress however, Tessa was on her own. And the fifth dress was absolutely horrendous: It was strapless and gold and pink. It looked like something an actress at Disneyland would wear.

"I need something classic," Tessa told her mom, after she'd tried on—and rejected—a one shouldered, tight red dress with a strappy back. "If I attend a lot of these things, I'm going to need to come up with my own style, but for this, I need to look acceptable and classy."

Elizabeth nodded, "Acceptable and classy," She repeated and then laughed. "Oh, dear, how I wish your Aunt Harriet was here. She'd have gotten the right dress in a moment."

Tessa couldn't help but agree, her Aunt Harriet was hugely fashionable, that was true. But Tessa felt that she had struck gold—she didn't have to make a statement with her first dress, she just had to get approved. They left the dressing room, now on the prowl for 'acceptable and classy' dresses and returned to the dressing room with a further six dresses.

Tessa tried them all on. There was a black one, that almost made the cut, but the back was just too low. If Tessa had a tramp stamp, it would have shown. Elizabeth bit her lip, looking at the black, tight dress that was so nearly perfect she looked up at Tessa and said, "Wait here." And disappeared back into the store. Three minutes later, she returned, holding a black dress that Tessa had previously rejected on the grounds of it being too sexy. She held it out to Tessa, "Try it on." She urged, "It might be exactly what you need."

The moment she slipped it over her head, Tessa knew that this was her dress. Delicate ruching gave the strapless dress a seductive look, but the lace covering the bodice (that had a sweetheart neckline) neutralised the sexiness, making it classy. Tessa's breasts were big enough that holding up the dress would be no problem, but not so big that the strapless style would raise eyebrows. The fabric was expertly gathered from the empire waistline to the top of her thigh, creating an hourglass figure that she (for the most part) usually lacked. Further adding to the classiness of the gown was a train that gathered at the back and cascaded down the back of the floor-length skirt. Wearing it, Tessa realised that she had never felt more grown up or more sophisticated.

"Oh," Tessa breathed, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mother came and stood behind her, smiling widely. "Mom, it's beautiful." Checking the price tag, she frowned. "It is a little out of our price range, though." She admitted, frowning. She turned and looked back over the dresses she had already tried on: Surely one of them would do?

"Tessa, I'm getting you the dress." Her mother said, standing.

She turned, still wearing the beautiful thing. "Oh, mom." She whispered, gratefulness swelling in her heart, making it burn happily. "Thank you, thank you so much." She turned and looked at herself again in the dress. The searching had been worth it: This dress was perfect. It put her in mind of the dress Anna Karenina wore to the ball thrown by the Shcherbatsky family. She knew immediately that Will would love it—and he would catch the literary reference. Suddenly, her nervousness over the next day turned (mostly) to excitement. She beamed.

Elizabeth squeezed her hand. "You're absolutely glowing," She said. "You need this dress. As you say, this is your first public appearance. I won't have you looking ridiculous for it. You will have this dress."

Tessa thanked her mother again and then her mother went out to pay for the lovely thing and Tessa peeled it off, carefully replacing it on its hanger before putting on her jeans and black sweater that had colourful moths on it. The shop assistant put the dress into a box with a lot of tissue paper and put that in a larger bag. Elizabeth let Tessa carry the bag—she sensed that Tessa was bursting with an urge she hadn't felt since childhood to keep her hands on the gown—and they left.

They left Pentagon City and decided to go to California Pizza Kitchen for lunch. Elizabeth ordered the chicken Caesar sandwiches while Tessa got a bowl of chicken chowder—they were both the individual's usual orders. As she ate, Elizabeth questioned Tessa about the ball, before steering the conversation into more personal matters. "And are you staying over at the White House tomorrow night?" She asked as they left the restaurant and began walking towards the car.

"I assume so," Tessa said, "The ball won't end until about one and I don't want to be trying to get home on New Year's Eve after midnight, everyone will be so drunk. It'll be dangerous."

"Will you be sleeping in Will's room?" Elizabeth asked as they walked past CVS, the pharmacy chain. She readjusted the bag on her shoulder.

"Maybe," Tessa coloured. She hadn't actually considered the possibility of sleeping in Will's room, "Why do you ask?" She asked, and immediately regretted it.

Elizabeth shot her a look, "Because I'm too young to be a grandmother." She said frankly. "Do you need contraception?"

"I've been on birth control pills since I was thirteen." Tessa reminded her—and it was true. Irregular and unusually heavy periods had put Tessa on the medication far earlier than most people. "If anything did happen—and I'm not saying that I will or that I'm planning on it or anything like that—I wouldn't get pregnant."

"A ninety-nine-point-seven chance you won't get pregnant," Elizabeth reminded her, "And they have a failure rate of nine percent—so, making it with usual use, there's a ninety one percent chance chance you won't get pregnant."

"Which is still a really good chance. And besides, the failure rate is for people who don't take them properly, I do. I've been taking them for years, I know how to take birth control." Tessa's voice was snappy, but she was embarrassed. Her potential sex life was not something she had envisioned discussing with her mother.

Elizabeth didn't reply, but she pursed her lips, thinking. After a minute, she passed Tessa the keys. "Go back to the car, I'll be there in a minute, I just have to go pick a few things up."

"Oh my God," Tessa took the keys and headed to the car park and got in the car. Clicking her phone so it would turn on, she texted Will.

_So, I got my dress. And you'll love it. _

Per usual, his response came pretty quickly: _Oh? Is it see-through? ;-) _

_Ew, no. But it does have literacy references I think you'll enjoy. _

_Literacy references? Like what? _

_You'll find out. ;-) If you can guess the reference, you might even get a prize. ;-)_

_Ooh, what kind of prize? ;-)_

Tessa was about to respond when her mother came back to the car. She got into the car; rummaged through a CVS bag she was holding and threw a cardboard box into Tessa's lap. Tessa picked up the box and looked over at her mother.

"Condoms, really?"

Elizabeth didn't look at her, "I'm too young to be a grandmother," She replied, starting the car.

And that was all that was said of the subject.

The next day, Tessa arrived at the White House at four-thirty in the afternoon. The dinner (and subsequent ball) wasn't supposed to start until seven, but Linette had felt it was best for Tessa to arrive early to get ready. The hairdresser would see to her, and the makeup artist. On a whim, Linette had brought a tailor in case Tessa's dress wasn't quite right (she had also bought an emergency dress, in case Tessa had gotten something a little too strappy, but she wasn't going to mention that until after she saw Tessa's dress). So, when Tessa came up into The Residence, she was ushered into a guest room where Linette stood with a hairdresser and a makeup artist. Linette gave Tessa a quick hug and then turned to the hairdresser.

"Tessa, this is Richard Ashley, my hairstylist, and Orla Knight, my makeup artist. They'll also do your hair and makeup. I trust them both with my life," She smiled at Tessa, "And you should do the same. Orla's saved me from a thousand insults from the media for dry skin. And Richard, oh, he's a god, I tell you." Orla smiled politely, but Richard stepped forward, smiling at Tessa.

"Hello, Tessa," He sounded Columbian, and looked Hispanic with dark, wavy hair. He wore a pair of slacks and a deep red shirt. He stepped forward and hugged Tessa. Tessa was surprised—and a little annoyed—with the embrace, she didn't usually like to be hugged by people she knew, let alone people she didn't know.

"Right," Linette said, clapping her hands together. "Tessa, can we see your gown on you? I want to make sure that it fits right, I have a tailor on hand in case it needs adjusting."

"Oh," Tessa suddenly felt shy. Her eyes flitted to the dress bag she'd left on the bed. "I—of course." She picked up the bag and hurried into the en-suite bathroom. From there, she took off her clothes, standing only in her underwear and bra. She took off the bra, replacing it with a strapless black bra. Her mother had insisted on buying a nude one and Tessa had insisted on black. The shop assistant had ended the dispute, by siding with Tessa and saying that black (with a black dress) was far less likely to be noticed than a nude that didn't match Tessa's skin tone.

Tessa slid on the beautiful gown, twisting around to zip it up (she didn't want to go out and ask Linette for help). Behind the counter in the bathroom, was a well-lit mirror and Tessa pulled and tugged at the dress until she felt that it fell perfectly. Pulling a brush from the bag, she pulled it through her hair a couple times before she felt confident enough to go back into the other room where the others waited.

Linette's eyes lit up when Tessa came out into the bedroom. "Turn around," She said immediately and Tessa did as she was told, sweeping her hair out of the way so that Linette could see and approve the dress. There were several tense moments while Tessa waited. Then, Linette said, "It's perfect. Did you bring a dressing gown? I can get you one if you need it. Take the dress off and Richard and Orla can do their work. I need to go see to Cecily's ball gown." She gave Tessa a look, "Unlike you, my daughter thinks that wearing a dress that gives the impression of nudity—along with a huge slit up the side—is appropriate for the Lincoln Ball." She rolled her eyes, "I have a spare dress. I hope that the tailor can amend it in time, please excuse me." Her last words were to everyone in the room, and she swept out. As soon as she was gone, Orla looked at Tessa and laughed.

"Oh," She said, coming over to Tessa, who still stood in the "She always has trouble with Cecily. For the Inauguration Ball, Cecily tried to wear this silver, sequined gold affair. It was nasty!" She laughed. Tessa couldn't remember what Will's younger sister had worn to the ball, but she was fairly certain that it had not involved sequins, so Linette must have won that fight. "Right, did you bring a dressing gown? Because you need to go put it on and then Richard and I will talk to you about how we want to portray you."

Tessa had, she walked to the duffel bag, which had been brought up while she was changing. She rummaged through it and pulled out her ruby red dressing gown. As she pulled it out, she caught sight of the box of condoms. She _had _packed it, even though Elizabeth had not ordered her to. Will was returning home soon… and well; they were spending the night together. Her heart flip-flopped as she put the dressing gown on the bed and speedily zipped the bag back up.

She changed out of the dress, but left her bra and underwear on. She hung up the dress and brought it back out with her, carefully hanging it on the wardrobe door before turning to her prep-team. Richard motioned for her to sit next to him on the bed, while Orla took a place in an armchair by the fireplace.

"So Tessa, you have great hair." Richard said, "And we want you to go wash it, before we do anything else with it. It looks perfectly clean, but it's easiest to style if we start with damp hair. What Orla and I were thinking was that we take advantage of your hair. It is beautiful; we were thinking that you wear it down, but in waves that we'll make perfect: that _I'll _make perfect."

"No," Tessa said immediately, and then at Richard's shocked expression, she quickly added, "I don't want to wear my hair down, I believe your idea would be lovely, but I want to wear it up. I've really thought about it, and I want to make reference to Anna Karenina." Richard looked at her blankly, but Orla nodded excitedly.

"Oh yes, the black dress with the hair pulled up with pearls in it? That sounds perfect. But where are we going to get pearls?"

Tessa stood and went back over to her bag, and pulled out a box her mother had given her that morning. "I have my own. I was hoping you could help… arrange them in some artful way."

Richard reached his hand out for the box. "I see." He looked up at Orla, "A chignon, pulled to just above the nape of her neck, we arrange them using that? Yes. Okay. Tessa, go shower: We'll be ready for you when you come out. And DON'T forget to use conditioner."

Vaguely, she wondered where Will was, but did as she was told. In the bathroom, she found very posh shampoo and conditioner. She washed her hair, careful to leave in the conditioner for at least five minutes (like the bottle said) and then returned to the bedroom. Once the bathroom was clear, Richard and Orla began setting up shop, a beauty shop chair came in, supplies were unloaded on the counter and Tessa realised to her shock that it was already five-thirty: Would she be ready in ninety minutes? Talking busily about clients and various affairs, Richard did her hair, drying it into luscious waves that put Tessa in mind of Sophie's hair. Once her hair was dried, they put a net over it to keep it out of the way and Orla applied some mask to Tessa's face ("We want you to look fresh!" She said.) The mask would only be left on for ten minutes, and it was not quite six-ten. Orla went out to prep her makeup, and Richard went with her, leaving Tessa alone with her phone.

Tessa was glad, looking at her hands, that she kept her nails well manicured. At least no one could call the First Son's girlfriend a slob. There was a protest outside the door, which made Tessa sit up in alarm and the bathroom door flew open, revealing Will, wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. "Hey you." He said to Tessa, leaning over to kiss her full on the mouth, even though he got some of the facemask on his chin in the process. "You look dashing." He told her. Orla appeared behind him.

"Sir, she is readying herself, you cannot—"

"Oh Orla, chill out and leave us alone for a moment." Will said flippantly. Surprised, Orla said nothing in response, but left, closing the door behind her. Tessa frowned at Will.

"Really, you shouldn't be so rude."

Will shrugged, "I wanted to be alone with you." He said, pulling her up from the chair. "Oh man, you look ravishing. Green face is totally your colour." He said, his eyes sparkling. He kissed her deeply. What Tessa hadn't realised, was that in the process of turning hither and thither, the rope on her dressing gown had become quite loose, and the friction of Will's body as he leaned into her was all it needed to fall away, so the robe opened. Tessa scrambled to close it, her cheeks heating up, but Will's hand on her wrist stopped her.

She glanced up at him. He gazed at her body like he had never seen anything quite like it before. She still wore the robe, so his view was limited, but he could see her flat torso, and he could easily see the round, perky shape of her breasts. Silently, Tessa thanked her lucky stars that she'd decided to wear black underwear, too. The underwear was seamless, and not the sexiest thing in the world, but it was a bikini cut and it was black, so she felt little shame. It was better than the huge, lavender coloured granny underwear she'd been wearing the day before.

"Oh my," He murmured. Carefully, as if he were touching glass, Will ran his hand up her torso, pushing the robe slightly further away. His fingers lingered at the underside of her bra, and she made no protest as his hand slid over the bra's satiny top, and dipped into it to pull her breast out into plain view. He studied it, his eyes hooded. His eyes flicked up and held hers as he ran a hand over it. He leaned down to kiss her again.

There was a knock on the door, shocking them both. "Tessa, I need to wash off your facemask and put makeup on. Time's ticking."

"Yes of course! Just a minute," She called. She quickly looked up at Will, and readjusted herself, and then pulled the robe shut and tied it. "That was…" She had no words to describe what she wanted to say. She reached up and kissed Will again, "You… you should go and get ready."

Shaking himself out of some kind of trance, Will nodded. "Oh, yes, of course. I'll see you downstairs." He kissed her and departed. After he left, Tessa sat back down and waited for Richard and Orla to return. She felt a strange tightness in her tummy and couldn't explain why. It was a sweet tightness, nothing was wrong, but she could not quite understand what she yearned for. And no matter how hard she tried, she could not expel the memory of Will's eyes on her naked breast.

Richard and Orla did not see anything wrong. Orla washed off the facemask and then they instructed her to dress, including nylons and shoes, but to put her dressing gown back on over her evening gown. She did as she was told and when she was again seated in the chair Richard began twisting and pulling at her hair with expert hands. Her hair was a chestnut colour; brown, but not nearing black. She watched as her hair was put up into an elegant chignon. Once it was firm, and in place, Richard began putting in the various pearl hairpins. When he was done, Orla jumped in and pulled the chair away from the mirror, before Tessa could get a good look.

"We don't want you to see it until it's done!" She chirped. "Close your eyes."

Tessa was vaguely aware of the process; Orla lined her eyes with very dark eyeliner. The lipstick was very bright. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Very soon she would be making her first public appearance. Her mind flitted to Princess Diana's appearance in Australia, in that deep blue gown. And then she thought of a more recent picture, Kate Middleton, Prince William's girlfriend attending a ball in a slim-cut, floor length magenta gown. Richard grabbed her arm, "It is done." He said proudly, when she looked up at him. "Take off your dressing gown and come look in the mirror."

Doing as she was told, Tessa took off the dressing gown and hung it from a hook on the back of the door. And then she moved over to the mirror. She was glad that the basic, Nine West heels she had bought were easy to walk in. Richard led her over to the mirror. "Surprise," Orla said, once they drew near to it.

Staring back at Tessa was a dark haired beauty. Her side-fringe wafted neatly over her forehead, swooping into a delicate chignon. She tilted her head slightly, and just caught a glimpse of the pearls that were pressed into it. Her makeup was apparent, definitely, but it was well done, highlighting her cheekbones. The work Orla had done on her eyes, lining them with a deep thin black made the grey pop and made her eyes look much larger than they actually were. Her lips, already full—looked fuller still and bright. The dress didn't fail to amaze her, it clung to her, accenting her curves. Tessa regretted not wearing any jewellery, but ignored it. She looked fine. Reaching over to the nightstand, she sprayed her perfume—the classic Issy Miyake—over her collarbone and wrists and then she turned back to Richard and Orla.

"Thank you," She said, "I really appreciate this."

They weren't able to respond, because the First Lady came in. Linette had claimed that Orla and Richard were her lifelines, but she clearly had other lifelines too. Her hair was curled around her face and she wore a nice, maroon dress with an A-line skirt and a natural waist with a black bow. Someone had done her makeup and she smiled widely when she saw Tessa, "You look beautiful." She told her. "Now, I've just got to sort out Cecily—I got her to agree to the dress, but I don't know if she's ready yet. Come with me, and then we can go downstairs and meet my husband and Will. Do you have a clutch? Oh good. I find them so useful. Come along."

Tessa smiled wryly at Orla and Richard, before following the First Lady through the residence. They came to a door Tessa knew to be Cecily's. Without knocking, Linette went in, and Tessa followed. Cecily was as pretty as Will was handsome; her raven hair was pulled back into a high bun and she wore… well, Tessa had to admit that it was a nice dress, but on Cecily's relatively petite frame, it was not that becoming. The dress was slim and coral, with a lace over it. The lace provided the high neckline of the dress and the cap sleeves.

"Mother, why on earth am I wearing this?" Cecily said, turning around in the mirror. "I look ridiculous."

"You look fine." Linette said flatly. "And if you hadn't bought something entirely unsuitable, I would not make you wear that." Tessa's eyes were drawn to a strapless dress on the bed. It was nude coloured, and covered with black lace. From a distance, Cecily would look like she was wearing nothing but a sheer black-lace dress. Tessa could see Linette's point.

Cecily rolled her eyes. "The press is going to eviscerate me."

"It will be fine." Linette assured her, "We're going to be late."

With a sigh, Cecily grabbed her own clutch. Tessa realised, watching Cecily walk, that she wore strappy nude sandals. Tessa wondered if she should have worn strappy shoes, rather than closed-toe shoes. Cecily looked at Tessa and smiled, "You look really pretty." She told her, linking arms with her, "The press won't eviscerate you. Hopefully they'll be so interested in you that they'll leave my dress to be forgotten." She laughed.

They made their way down to the grand staircase, which was normally only used for Presidential functions. They walked down the red carpet of the stairs and Tessa caught sight of Will before he caught sight of her. He looked dashing in his black tuxedo and bow tie. He had attempted to tame his hair, and failed. It was messy and wild, as always, but this only added to the appeal. He looked up and his eyes lit up when he saw Tessa.

"Oh my." He murmured, as she drew near to him, "You look _perfect_." He whispered in her ear. Tilting his face towards hers, he kissed her gently and Tessa felt the tug from earlier. She longed to kiss him more passionately, but his family was there and she had to pull away when he did.

"You look very nice, Tessa." Edmund Herondale said, once she had separated from Will. She blushed and thanked him. He looked over to Linette, "Shall we, dear?" He said, resting his hand on her lower back. She nodded and he looked back at the three, Will, Tessa and Cecily. "Happy New Year, to you three. Be careful getting back."

They replied accordingly and then President and the First Lady were off to the Lincoln Ball. All the balls were named after Presidents. Cecily was actually attending the event at the Kennedy Centre, but Will and Tessa were going to be attending the Roosevelt Ball. Cecily turned back to them once her parents had gone. "Good luck," She said to Tessa, her smile was warm. "I'm sure you'll be wonderful. Just smile and wave and they'll think you're amazing." She laughed and hugged Tessa. "Happy New Year, Will." She smiled at her brother, and then, she too was gone.

"Shall we—" Tessa made for the door, but Will pulled her back.

"Wait," He said, "I have something to give you."

And from his pocket he pulled a blue Tiffany box. Tessa gasped. No one had ever bought her Tiffany jewellery before. He offered it to her. "Oh," She said, "You didn't have to. I didn't—oh God, I'm such a bad girlfriend."

Will smiled, "You're not a bad girlfriend at all. Now open it."

Inside the box was a simple sterling silver bracelet from which dangled a heart. Tessa sighed happily. "Oh Will, thank you." She said as he took it from the box and clasped it on the wrist she held up. Tessa took the box from him and put it in her bag—even a box from Tiffany was worth keeping. She noticed, turning her wrist, that one side of the heart was coloured with the trademark Tiffany blue.

He smiled, and kissed her.

They went away to the car and arrived at the Cannon building shortly. Going upstairs, they were directed towards a big ballroom. Outside of the ballroom, Will paused with Tessa. "Are you ready for this?" He asked her. "Once we go in… well, once we go in you're not a secret anymore." Tessa took his arm, and with a deep breath nodded.

"I'm ready." She replied, although she was unsure.

They entered into a world unknown to Tessa: fine jewels on the ladies and thousand dollar suits on the men. They were stopped and their photographs were taken, but mostly Tessa stayed quiet, on Will's arm as he discussed various politics and people with Washington's elite. More than once Will stopped a waiter carrying around glasses of champagne and got him and Tessa a glass. Again, Tessa supposed that being the President's son (and perhaps, being at the ball itself) had the perk of allowing underage drinking. As a result, by the time midnight was near, she was feeling quite warm and bubbly. She wasn't sure she liked champagne, through. It had a weird aftertaste.

Suddenly, the room began to feel quite constricting and warm. She pulled on will's sleeve. "May we go outside?" She asked him, "I'm feeling rather faint." Will nodded and made eyes at his bodyguard who Tessa had not met before, who stood across the room. The bodyguard followed as the two of them left and went downstairs, into the chilly December air.

She looked up at the capitol, which was all lit up at this hour. Tessa shivered, and Will immediately took off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. She smiled at him, "Too much champagne, I guess." Tessa said. Will shrugged, and smiled.

"I've been through an English university's Fresher's Week, believe me, you're doing quite well at handling your drink." He wrapped his arms around her, to warm her or to warm himself, she wasn't sure. She leaned into his embrace, taking comfort in his warmth. "It's nearly midnight." He said—he'd looked at his watch.

"Should we go back inside?" She asked, looking back up at the building. She was feeling better, but Will shook his head.

"No, I want to start the New Year out here, alone, with you."

"And your bodyguard," Tessa said, nodding towards him. Will smiled and drew Tessa nearer.

"You and Kevin are great people to spend the New Year with."

She gazed up at him and realised how his face was so familiar to her, every curve, every hollow, and the straightness of his nose; how if you looked too long at his face, you realised that his nose was just slightly too big for it. She traced her fingers from his hairline to his lips; he kissed her fingers as they passed over it, sending heat straight to her centre.

"I love you, Will Herondale." She whispered.

"I love you too." He murmured, "I love you."

She kissed him. He kissed her back. With no one around (except for Kevin, who was trained to see everything and nothing at once) they kissed openly and passionately. The fire from earlier returned in full force, perhaps even more since Tessa was slightly intoxicated. She kissed Will harder. The world became Will, nothing but Will, just Will and—

"Hey," Will said, pulling away slightly and resting his forehead against Tessa's, "Do you wanna get out of here? Go back to the White House?"

"Don't you have to stay until midnight?"

"Not officially, I've talked to everyone who needs talking to and Tessa," His voice had adopted almost an animalistic edge. "That dress." He drew her more tightly to him, "You have no idea what that dress has been doing to me."

"I think I might have a tiny bit of an idea," She smiled mischievously up at him. "Let's go back to the White House."

Back in her guest room, the two of them were on each other immediately. The world was Will, just Will and Will and Will. Tessa responded to his kisses urgently, trying to show him that she understood his desperation to remove all walls between them. He paused, holding her face between his hands. "We…" He was breathing heavily. "We don't have to do this. Not now, we could just—I mean, have you ever…?"

Tessa shook her head, "No," She murmured. Her arms were wrapped around him, under his own arms; she pulled him closer. "Have you? I imagine it's not hard—"

"—Oh, it's _very_ hard." He interrupted. Even in lust, Will's humour could not be quashed. "But I imagine you meant it's not hard for me to find people who—no, it's not hard. And I've done it before."

"With who?"

Will looked pained, "Do you really want to know?" Tessa nodded and he sighed. "For the first time, with a past girlfriend when I was fourteen."

"You were fourteen?" Tessa felt shocked. In her mind, she'd thought that really nobody under fifteen or sixteen got that intimate. Will nodded.

"Yep, not a great decision I ever made. The other times have been flings… two here, one over in England. It didn't last too long."

"So… I'd be the fifth?"

Rather than making some snarky comment about her math skills, Will looked pained, and nodded. "You would be." He replied, "Tessa, if you're not comfortable, we really don't have to even—"

"No," Her arms were wrapped around him and she pulled him closer, "I want it to be _you_, Will. I want it to be _now_."

He looked at her doubtfully, "We don't have—"

"Condoms? Yes we do." Tessa went over to her duffel bag and dug through it. She held them up. His eyes widened.

"Bit presumptuous, don't you think?" He asked, watching her put the box on the nightstand for easier access. Tessa shrugged and said nothing. "Well…" He started, clearly at a loss. "Okay then."

"Is there a problem?" She asked flirtatiously, going back over to him.

He actually gulped. "No," He murmured, wrapping his arms around her. "There's not."

And then he bent to kiss her again.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note:

Again, this chapter has mildly sexual scenes, but they're not explicit. If you want explicit scenes, go read Fifty Shades of Grey, 'cause I ain't gonna write them for you.

Thank you all for the reviews. It's been a busy month and I'm sorry I haven't had the time to update.

Take care,

VioletRose136

* * *

><p>CHAPTER SEVEN<p>

Despite her late night, Tessa awoke early the next morning, when dawn was still breaking over the recovering, quiet city. Beside her in the bed was Will, who was still asleep. In the dim light, over the side of the bed, Tessa caught sight of their discarded clothes, her beautiful dress crumpled on the floor, where it had been left…

_..."Oh, Tessa." Will had said, his voice trembling. Whether it was out of nervousness or lust, she could not have guessed. His hands travelled over the satiny fabric of her dress, travelling up her bare back (where the dress's top ended) and up to her hair. Without speaking, Tessa turned around, expecting that Will would unzip the dress. But this he did not do, he touched one hairpin, carefully. "Anna Karenina, the pearls, the black dress… you read the book." _

_It seemed a bizarre conversation to be having right then, of all times, but Tessa nodded. "Yes, I did take inspiration from her." She replied._

_Will said nothing, but slowly began to pull the hairpins out. The pearl hairpins did little to keep the chignon in place, so it was awhile until Will could find and remove all the invisible, brown hairpins that had done all the work. But slowly, he pulled each one out, and slowly Tessa's hair came down from its chignon to fall around her shoulders and down her back. Will softly turned her to face him again, and kissed her softly. Then, he moved his hands around the dress and it took her a moment to realise he was trying to find a way to remove it._

"_It zips," She explained, turning back around and pulling her hair over one shoulder, so he could see what she meant, "At the back." _

_He slowly took hold of the zipper and pulled it down. As he did, Tessa made no effort to keep the dress from falling to the floor. She stepped out of it and was left standing in her nylons, heels and underwear. Will knelt down before her, carefully removing each heel and returning Tessa to her normal height. Then, he reached up to her waist, where the tights ended and slowly pulled them down over her hips and past her thighs; she stepped out of them, too. Will's hands travelled back up her body, exploring and touching and then he stood, and wordlessly led her to the bed._

Looking around, Tessa noted that Will's clothes were also messily strewn around the room. The only thing that they had cared for in their lust was Tessa's bracelet from Will, which sat on the dressing table by her side of the bed. She turned her head to look at it, more memories of the night before spilling into her head…

…_She had never been kissed like this. She had never felt like this. Her whole body felt alive, and although she was totally focused on his lips, every part of her knew everything that Will was doing. Against her naked thigh, she felt the smoothness of his trousers. His trousers, why were they still on? She realised vaguely that Will was doing her best to take things slow for her and she did not want that. She wriggled up against him, making him moan softly at the friction._

"_Will," She murmured against his lips, "Will, please…." She whined. _

_He chuckled softly, it was not a laugh, but he was definitely amused, "Do you want more?" He whispered, his fingers trailing down her sides, touching the very edges of her seamless underwear. "Am I going to slow for you?" _

"_I—ah—please." She didn't know what she wanted. But her mouth and her thoughts seemed strangely disconnected. She did not know what to say to Will's question. She felt like this should be something she should remember, and yet, she could not think of anything but how much she wanted Will. _

_Moving his hands over to one side of her, his elbows resting on the bed, Will picked up her arm, where it lay limply by a pillow. She turned her head to look at him, and watched him as he unclasped the bracelet and set it carefully down on the nightstand, next to the condoms. He turned back to her and smiled. "It'll be safe now." He promised._

The condoms of course, were not still on the nightstand. Tessa blushed as she remembered their retrieval, the messy opening of the box, how they had spilled everywhere and neither she nor Will had cared. And then she thought of what had happened next, where she and Will were closer than close. Where his body answered a need she had not realised before she could feel so desperately, a need that she had not realised he could answer so completely. And after, when he had held her in his arms and they had said little, because the silence spoke it for them.

_It was late, Tessa knew, but she didn't know how late. Her body hurt, but it hurt in a way that was also amazing, blissful and content. Will was quiet, his hand idly stroking her hair so she knew that he had not fallen asleep. She counted his heartbeats. She knew that such a thing was not supposed to be THAT amazing: Sophie had certainly promised her it wouldn't be. Yet… it had been. Maybe Sophie's problem was that she only slept with virgins, where with Will, well, nobody could doubt that he knew what he was doing. She giggled at the thought. Will's hand stilled and she felt his gaze on her._

"_What's so funny?" He'd asked. She'd shaken her head and buried her head into his chest. He pulled away (gently) and rested on his elbow so he could look at her. She turned and grinned at him, a stupid, all-in-love grin that made him smile, too. "What's funny?" He asked again._

"_This," She replied, "People—everyone said your first time was," She found that she was shy, that she couldn't quite look at him. "Well, that it was going to be pretty lame and you'd have to just trust that it got better. It wasn't like that." _

_He tipped her face up to his and leaned down to kiss her. Turning onto his back and drawing her back into his arms, he'd chuckled and replied, "Well, I'm glad I made the cut." _

Smiling to herself, Tessa snuggled closer to Will, who lazily wrapped himself back around her. She wasn't even sure if he was awake enough to realise what he was doing. It was warm, in the bed with Will and Tessa easily dozed off again, but was woken a few hours later when the bed really became too warm to actually deal with. She flung back the covers (on her side) and slipped out of bed. It was still early, but now morning light filled the south-facing room. She grabbed her dressing gown, glad to have something to cover her nude form and realised vaguely that she was in fact, very, very hungry.

She looked over at Will, who was still sleeping. She gazed at him, and then leaning over—entirely aware that her breath probably smelled worse than it tasted, which was already pretty bad—kissed him full on the mouth. He murmured something illegible and shifted. She kissed him again, and felt his lips smile under hers. Two more kisses, and his strong arms encircled her waist, pulling her against his chest. She stared at his jaw, watching as his eyes opened halfway and he smiled crookedly at her.

"Good morning, Theresa." He murmured, she smiled, and nuzzled down, she could feel his chest hair against her face as she did. She didn't reply, not immediately, but she kissed up his chest, up his neck, under his jaw and kissed his chin, before finally kissing his mouth.

"Good morning, William."

His face turned from happy, to thoughtful. And he reached out and touched her face, carefully, with one finger. He stroked it down the length of the side of her face, leaving a trail of fire in its midst. "You are so beautiful." He whispered, and bent to kiss her again. At first, they were careful to kiss with their mouths closed, ever mindful of morning breath. However, as their kissing intensified, Tessa found that she didn't care. And she kissed him passionately as Will moved to cover her body with his own.

It was much later that she (wearing jeans, and a top) and Will (wearing his crumpled tuxedo from the night before) walked into the kitchen. They walked slowly, hand in hand. They stopped occasionally to kiss, and the thirty-second walk from the guest room to the kitchen was greatly elongated as a consequence. It also elongated making breakfast (which they did, grabbing pancake batter in a tube and heating up a pan). Will left briefly, to swap his suit for a pair of jeans and a black sweater. When he returned, he wrapped his arms around Tessa's waist, leaning his head on her shoulder. He nuzzled his head into her neck and she laughed.

"What on earth are you doing?" She asked, turning around to face him.

"_Sniffing_ you." He replied. She giggled and reached up to kiss him. No one could kiss the way Will could: His lips were moist, and soft and endlessly warm. He pulled back and ran a hand through her hair. She sighed.

"Ew, ew, ew. Keep the mating for private rooms of the house, please! Ew."

Tessa looked away from Will and saw Cecily in the doorway. She was wearing tartan pyjama bottoms and a white top. Her hair was messily strewn about her shoulders. Around her eyes were the traces of the makeup she'd been wearing the night before, giving her the appearance of a racoon. Tessa wondered how her makeup looked—she hadn't seen a mirror this morning.

"Mating? Does this look like mating to you?" Will asked, moving away from Tessa and towards the electric kettle. "You did go to health class, right?"

She shuddered. "I did, but I can't say it was that useful. Our teacher was a huge asshole—I remember him getting angry and calling this one kid a 'faggot', it was amazing that he wasn't fired." She stopped, "I mean, he was fired later. After he had an affair with one of the seniors. But still, you shouldn't be able to get away with things like that."

Tessa frowned: She was pretty much as, "Some people are GAY, get OVER it" as you got. And while she wasn't stranger to the dirtier terms used (although she herself tried to avoid using them), she was shocked. What an awful thing to call anybody, even jokingly. Will turned on the kettle.

"Oh yeah—Mr. Bundy. I remember him."

"The public school system." Cecily rolled her eyes. "That's what you can expect, I suppose. Thank God dad's not making us go to public school so it looks good when it comes for re-election. Nobody would expect the _President's children _to rub shoulders with public-school kids."

Tessa bristled: She went to a public school. The teachers there were fine—in fact, her Government teacher was probably one of the best teachers she'd ever had. She knew that some public schools had their drawbacks, but she was angry that Cecily would lump them all together. Not all the people at rougher schools were bad people, in fact, the few she knew were pretty nice—their families just didn't have the money (or the address) to send them someplace better.

"What a horrible thing to say," Will said. He'd seen Tessa's eyes flash angrily, and had decided to step in before his sister and girlfriend started sparring with each other. "I have a good mind to tell father that you said that… maybe a few years in a _state_ _school_—" He imitated, realising too late that he'd used the British term, rather than the American counterpart his sister had used. "—Would do you a world of good. It would stop you being an elitist bitch, by any length."

Cecily bristled, but she backtracked. "I'm only talking about those inner-city schools, you know, the ones where they have to stop kids stabbing each other on the playgr—"

"—Cecily, I really would stop talking now." Will cut in. Before she could reply, he turned back to Tessa. "Are you nearly done with those pancakes? I'm starving."

"Almost. Coffee?" Tessa asked, turning setting her own cup down on the kitchen island. She knew Will wanted tea, so the question was directed at Cecily.

Cecily replied. "No thank you, I prefer chocolate milk."

Tessa glanced at Will for confirmation and he shrugged and nodded. "Fair enough." She shrugged, and moved four pancakes onto plates, before turning back to the grill. When the rest of the batter was used up, Tessa sat at the island with Will and Cecily. She still bristled about Cecily's attack on public schools, and so she said very little. Will was tired (his late night was catching up to him) and did not want to deal with a spat between Tessa and Cecily. He turned on the kitchen TV.

Adventure Time was on, they all stared at it, eating and not really paying attention to the programme. Once she had finished, Cecily put her plate in the sink and went back to her room. Tessa gazed sleepily over at Will, who smiled at her and reached over to grasp her hand in his. "C'mon." He said, when she'd finished her coffee. "Let's go to my room."

"But—" She thought of the condoms, scattered still on the guestroom floor. "—I should go pack." She told him, "I'll come to your room in a minute."

Will nodded and they separated. Alone in the guestroom, Tessa cleared up all evidence from the night before. Doing her best not to gag, she took the used condoms from the bin and put them in a CVS bag to hide them—and then hid the bag under some tissues and plastic wrapping. There. No cleaning lady would suspect. She remade the bed and then, taking her duffel bag with her, headed through the residence to Will's room.

In the doorway, she paused and smiled. Will had rejected his rumpled tuxedo and was now wearing a black t-shirt and navy sweatpants. He lay on top of the bedspread on his side, with one arm under the pillow. With his eyes closed, and his steady breathing, she imagined he looked about four. She left her duffel bag to the side of the door, shutting the door quietly behind her. After that, she walked over to the bed and slid up next to Will, her position mirroring his. His eyes opened, and he smiled sleepily at her. He rose up briefly, to grab the duvet that was folded neatly at the end of the bed and pull it over them. He lay back down, and Tessa moved a little so they could share the pillow. His free arm draped over her waist. She leaned her head into his collarbone, inhaling deeply.

When she woke, Tessa had no idea how long she'd been asleep or what had woken her. She could feel that Will's proximity had not changed and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, wanting to preserve the moment. Tessa knew Will was awake, when he started tracing circles on her waist with the arm that wasn't under the pillow. His hand slid over the fabric of her jumper and slid under it, to trace the same patterns onto her skin. Finally, Tessa opened her eyes and met Will's. He half-smiled affectionately at her.

She leaned up and kissed him, and then asked. "What time is it?"

He frowned: He'd greeted her with an earth-shattering kiss, and she'd greeted him with, _"What time is it?"_ Seeing his face, Tessa laughed. "If you expect me to fantasise about your big, throbbing member think again." This got raised eyebrows.

"Get your mind out of the gutter," He said teasingly, readjusting his hold on her waist and pulling her closer. "Nobody said anything about my—what was it you said? _Big, throbbing member_?"

She flicked her eyes up to meet him, and laughed. They kissed again, and again she asked. "What time is it?"

This time, Will turned over, and tilted his bedside table clock so he could look at it. "Just a little bit after two." He told her. Tessa knew she'd have to go soon. She'd called her mother earlier—while she cleaned up the guest room, so Elizabeth Gray wouldn't worry about her—but she knew that she could not stay _forever_. But, would it really be that hard to just stay with Will forever? Stay in this warm embrace, not worry about school or university or exams or people or Nate or plays, or anything or anyone? Why, she wondered, did the world have to go on? She was perfectly content spending the remainder of her days exactly where she was. Her silence had confused Will; he furrowed his eyebrows and asked. "Is that okay?"

She nodded and then moved her arm so it wrapped around him. "It is," She said, "It just so happens that I'm very fond of you."

He smiled at her, "Ditto." He said, leaning down to kiss her.

A little while later, Will drove her back to Van Ness. They'd gotten up and Will had showered while she watched _Unrested_. After that, they'd watched two more episodes of _Unrested_, before Tessa admitted that she really needed to get home. They pulled up outside her apartment building, and Will leaned over to kiss her.

"Thank you for the ride." She said, reaching into the back for her duffel bag and nearly braining Will with it when she pulled it into the front seat. She kissed him again. "I love you."

Since she'd said it, Tessa found that she couldn't stop saying it. Will smiled at her. "I love you too," He said. "Are you sure you don't want me to come up?"

She was stunted. _Did she want him to come up? _Her house wasn't nearly as nice as the White House (obviously) but it probably wasn't nearly as nice as many of the places Will had lived in his lifetime. But he would have to come up sometime, and she did want him to meet her family. He'd have to, eventually…

"Can you?" She replied.

He shrugged. "Sure. Trevor and Axel are around somewhere nearby—my father insists they always follow my car, in case something happens—I can call them, and one of them can drive her," He patted the dashboard, to indicate that he meant the car. "Back to the White House."

Tessa stared at him, "_Her_? Your _car_ has a gender?"

"Her name is Cassia." He looked at her, and smirked. "Oh come on, if you had a car this beautiful, you would name it-slash-give it a gender, too."

Tessa had to admit that he was right. "Okay, call Trevor." She hoped the kitchen would be tidy.

After that, he called Trevor and a sedan pulled up into the drive behind them a few minutes later. Trevor got out, and switched places with Will. Will tossed him the keys. "Be careful with her, she's my one and only," He quipped, ignoring the glare Tessa shot at him. Trevor drove off, with Axel following—they had wanted to come in with the pair to Tessa's apartment, but Will had insisted they return to the White House. "I'm only going to an apartment, I won't leave." He'd told them three times, before they'd finally relented, and drove off.

Now alone, Will took Tessa's bag, and together they walked into her lobby. The lobbyist didn't notice them coming in, and they headed over to the elevator and rode up to Tessa's floor. Outside her door, Tessa leaned down and rooted through the duffel bag for her keys, which she produced quickly. She opened the door and stepped into her living room.

And found a stranger sitting on her couch.

The stranger was about Nate's age, and male. He had flaming red hair, so red that it would put her friend Henry's red hair to shame. And Tessa was quite sure she'd never seen him before. Will stood behind her in the doorway, confused.

"Hi!" The stranger said, leaping over the back of the couch with such force that the couch-back squeaked, and Tessa winced. He walked up to them, hand extended. "My name is Sean, Sean Poutney."

Tessa accepted the hand. "You know Nate?"

"He does indeed," Nate was coming back down the hallway, a game-disc in one hand. "Hi Tessa," He said, hugging her. "Mom and dad went to a New Years party, they said they'd be back around nine. You're Will? Hey, man, welcome." He said and gave Will one of those complicated looking man-greetings. After a moment, he said to Tessa, "Hey, can I talk to you in mom and dad's room for a sec?"

"Um, sure." Tessa looked at Will, and looked over at the kitchen. "Glasses are in the cupboard to the left of the sink. Help yourself if you want anything."

She followed Nate into their parents' bedroom. The bedroom was painted white, and furnished entirely with furniture from IKEA. Nate ran a nervous hand through his hair and looked at Tessa. Tessa noted that this was the first time since she'd found him a few weeks ago that he'd willingly been alone with her. "Look," He said nervously. "Sean—can you not mention to mom and dad that he was here?"

Tessa furrowed her eyebrows. "Why?" She asked— it seemed like a weird request. Was Nate doing drugs with Sean? In her mind's eye, she saw the redhead with his GAP Jeans and black sweater over a grey t-shirt. He hardly seemed like the type to be a drug dealer.

Nate bit his lip and looked over towards the window. "Just… don't tell them, okay?"

"I want to know why." Tessa realised her voice had risen a little, and she quickly lowered it. She didn't put it past Will to burst in because he was worried she was upset. "If you're in danger, I want to know."

"I'm not in danger, I—" He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just not ready to tell them yet. I'm really struggling... and I just can't tell them yet. It would be too much. I can't tell them. Not now."

His words were perplexing. Tessa asked, "What do you mean?"

He sighed again, "I'm not ready to tell them that Sean's my boyfriend," He said, finally looking at her as the meaning of his words sank in. And then, in case she hadn't understood what he meant, he said, "I'm not ready to tell them that I'm gay."


End file.
